


Choose Me Instead

by dreaming_about_fanfictions



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Falling In Love, Gryffindor, Post-War, Slytherin, draco malfoy/gryffindor reader, smut at some point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:13:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 85,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26283229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreaming_about_fanfictions/pseuds/dreaming_about_fanfictions
Summary: Pretending to be in a relationship with Draco Malfoy to get back at your ex might have not been the smartest idea you ever had. Especially now where you should be focusing on your last year of Hogwarts. However, you are just pretending. There's no way in hell you'll actually catch feelings for someone like Malfoy. ... Right?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Draco Malfoy/Reader, Draco Malfoy/Y/N, Draco Malfoy/You, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 395
Kudos: 757





	1. Prologue

_August 31st, 2000 -- after it all went down_

“You lied for a whole year,” Ginny stated after she heard everything you had to say for yourself.

You nodded, nervously playing with the edge of your skirt while waiting for a reaction. Anger, disappointment – you were prepared for everything. The reaction didn’t come though. Instead, your best friend stared at her glass of wine, thinking calmly about everything you just told her.

“So why did you do it again?” “To get back at –”

“– back at my brother, right,” she finished your sentence. For the first time since you finished talking, she looked up at you. “Seriously, Y/N?”

“What?”

“I could think of a thousand better ways to get back at my brother than getting into a fake relationship with Malfoy!”, she exclaimed. She almost spilled her wine by the sudden movement of her arm. “And none of it would have involved lying to all of your friends and then catching feelings for that … that Death Eater!”

“He’s not a Death Eater,” you tried to defend him weakly. “Also I didn’t catch feelings.”

“Did you sleep with him?”

“Excuse me?”

“Did you sleep with him?”, Ginny repeated her question.

You didn’t answer. “Great,” she said sarcastically. “Are you jealous of _her_?”

Again, no answer.

“You’re in love,” Ginny concluded. “You’re in love with freaking Malfoy.”

“I’m glad you decided against becoming an Auror.” You rolled your eyes and let out a sigh. “Besides, why aren’t you laughing at me yet? This whole situation must be hilarious to you!”

“I’ll laugh at you later. I’m too mad right now.” Now she sighed as well. “What now, Y/N?”

“What do you mean?”

“What are you gonna do about it?”

“Nothing. He’s getting married tomorrow.”

“So what?” Ginny shrugged.

You looked at her in confusion. “What do you want me to do?”

“Crash the wedding.”


	2. Reunion

_September 1999_

Someone up there in the sky hated you. Yes, that must have been it. Someone up there, any of those gods or goddesses the muggles liked to pray to, must have woken up this morning and said to themselves: “You know what? I’m gonna make Y/N’s life extra difficult today.” At least this was the only real explanation for everything that happened on this awful Friday.

After you woke up two hours late and twisted your ankle on the way to the bathroom by falling over books that were scattered all over the floor, you arrived at the Transfiguration classroom. Obviously, McGonagall couldn’t resist on giving you a lecture about discipline and responsibility. She gloriously ended it by handing you back your homework from the day before which didn’t exactly receive the best grade.

 _Damnit_. Your parents would be anything but thrilled to see that you failed the very first assignment. Especially since you’ve never been a bad student. You couldn’t keep up with Hermione but still, you were doing fine. However, this was the first week back in school after … everything happened – and some people thought this called for a celebration that couldn’t wait until the weekend. Also, Ginny was really persuasive when it came to partying and so you might have left the party a little too late and drank one too many glasses of firewhiskey.

Tonight there was another one of those parties. You debated whether or not you should go but – once again – Ginny convinced you. Not a good choice because it was rather boring to be honest – and even worse, your friends tried to set you up. Apparently in their world “two years without a boyfriend” meant “dying alone, surrounded by thirty cats”. One plus one makes two and your date was Cormac McLaggen. The most awful person they could have picked. Besides, even though you weren’t in a serious relationship for quite a while you had dated someone briefly during the summer. In the end, he dumped you in order to get back with his ex but that was another story.

„Y/N? Y/N!“

Speak of the devil.

„Y/L/N!“

You rolled your eyes. He didn’t even bother to remember how to pronounce your last name.

„Y/N,“ he almost sang your name. Man, he was already really wasted.

You heard steps coming closer. _Fuck._ You sped up, tiptoeing around the next corner. You had gotten rid of your shoes already as you were not used to wearing heels. Besides, bare feet turned fleeing from annoying dates into a much easier task.

“Y/N Y/L/N, where are you?”

You were a little surprised that he remembered your last name but the thought left your head quickly when you finally found what you were looking for – a tiny storage closet. You sent a quick prayer to all the muggle gods you could think of and hoped it wasn’t locked since you left your wand in your coat downstairs. You grabbed the doorknob and turned it and – the door opened.

“Yes!”, you whispered and quickly slipped inside. When the door fell shut you flinched, hoping McLaggen didn’t hear it.

He didn’t. Apparently he was way too drunk to hear or realize anything at all and so you heard his steps pass the small room and fade away eventually. Relieved, you let out a sigh and leaned back against the cold stone wall. A few more moments and then you could leave the room and head back to get your things and leave. After today, the only thing you craved was sleep.

Suddenly you straightened up again when a sound startled you. Steps? Was McLaggen coming back? No, the person was too fast. They were almost running down the hall. Then the door opened unexpectedly and closed again. You held your breath. Someone was inside.

“Honey?”, you heard a girl calling outside.

You frowned – the voice rang a bell. You definitely knew her from one of your classes but weren’t able to pinpoint it. After a few more seconds, you realized how long you were holding your breath and exhaled loudly.

The other person turned around abruptly and began to curse: “ _Fuck!_ Shit, who’s in here?!”

The sudden reaction made you flinch and an almost squeaking sound left your mouth. Embarrassing.

“Geez, I wanted to ask you the same thing!”, you hissed, staring at the point where you thought the other person stood.

“Wait, damnit, where’s my wand, it’s way too dark in here,” they grumbled. It was a man, this much you figured out already. Yet, his voice was too quiet to figure out who it was exactly.

The room was dully lit by the man’s wand suddenly. Your eyes widened when you recognized him immediately.

_Oh fuck._

White-blond hair and those piercing grey eyes, a face that’s been on the cover of The Daily Prophet more than once during the last year. You’d recognize him anywhere.

„Malfoy?!“, you almost gasped in surprise.

Confusion flitted across his face. “Do I know you?”

Ouch.

„Y/L/N“, you said, trying to help him remember. When there was no reaction, you added visibly more annoyed: “Y/N. Gryffindor.”

Finally, a light in his head went on. “Yes! I know you,” he exclaimed. „We have classes together and you’re a friend of the Weasel.”

Seriously?!

“What are you doing here?”, he asked.

„What are _you_ doing here?“

„I asked first.“

„I was first in this room.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment in the shine of the wand. Then Malfoy gave in. “Fine”, he scoffed. “Well, I’m …”, he stopped.

„… hiding?“, you finished his sentence for him.

Malfoy nodded and looked away.

Now you were curious. “From?”

“None of your business.”

You sighed and passed your hand over your forehead. “I see. You’re still the same.”

To your surprise – his face changed when he heard those words. As if he didn’t like what you were implying. “Astoria Greengrass,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

Ah. That’s why you recognized her voice.

“My future fiancée according to my mother.”

„Oh?“, you raised an eyebrow. That was unexpected. Draco Malfoy was about to be engaged? Already? How old was he – 19? Judging from all the rumours he didn’t seem like the type of guy who was into committed relationships. He was quite popular with the girls until … well, until the end of the sixth year.

“Surprised, Y/L/N?” There it was again – the way he spoke with that mocking undertone.

“A little,” you admitted.

Malfoy didn’t reply. He just looked at you, causing you to shift nervously. A few seconds passed before he spoke again. “So what are you doing here?”

Your body relaxed again and even a little smile appeared on your face. „Same thing.”

„You’re hiding from your fiancée?“ Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

“No, idiot. I’m hiding from my date.”

“Ah,” he nodded. “Do I know him?”

Has he always been that curios?

“None of your business,” you mimicked him.

Malfoy let out a huff of air and leaned against the wall. “I told you my story, Y/L/N.”

“Cormac McLaggen.”

Silence. Then you saw how the corners of his mouth began to twitch and before you understood what was happening, Malfoy started laughing. It was so loud, you were scared Cormac would hear him.

Feeling a little embarrassed by his sudden outburst, you crossed your arms in front your chest. Typical Slytherin. Making fun of everyone and everything. “Done?!”

Malfoy calmed down slowly. “Oh, Y/L/N and McLaggen,” he gasped for air. “Oh, I wish Zabini or Nott were here. This is great!”

You mumbled something not suitable for the common ear under your breath before you snarled: “Oh, shut up now! Somebody will hear you. You know –“

„Who is this? You rats are supposed to be in your rooms already!”

Again, your eyes widened when you heard the voice coming from outside. Filch. Oh no. If he found you and brought you to McGonagall your parents would definitely find out how well the first week back went. Even worse – you could already imagine the lecture you were about to receive when they heard who was with you when Filch found you. The last thing they needed to hear were rumours about you and a (hopefully) former Death Eater.

Malfoy seemed alarmed as well. Rumours about him and another girl in a small room at night probably weren’t ideal either. “Do something,” he hissed. The light from his wand went out.

„What am I supposed to do?!”

“Something, anything, I don’t know!” He kept looking to the door. “Please.”

Wait. Stopp. What? Draco Malfoy had the word _please_ in his vocabulary?

The steps came closer. It would only be a few seconds until someone turned that doorknob and they were found. Panic began to spread inside of you, desperately trying to think of what to do. Then your brain switched to autopilot and … you kissed Malfoy.

You kissed him. You kissed Draco Malfoy. The small rational part of your brain that wasn’t shut off yet asked itself if this was the day you finally lost your mind. To your even bigger surprise, he kissed you back.

The door opened and closed immediately. “I don’t believe it!”, someone cursed. “You have ten minutes to get out of there or I’ll personally drag you to McGonagall!”

This was the moment where you should take a step back. Now. Right now. Just a little while longer. Or maybe a long while …

Draco Malfoy was a good kisser – and with “good” you meant “fucking amazing”. Out of instinct he placed his hands on your hips, pulling you closer. His lips were soft, much softer than expected. He smelled of mint and a probably very expensive cologne. It made your knees become weak. The kiss felt like it lasted for seconds, minutes, hours – it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that you didn’t want it to end.

At some point, the kiss changed. It became harder, faster. You gasped when he pressed you up against the cold wall and your fingers gripped the hem of his jacket tightly. One of your shoes fell out of your hand. You didn’t notice it. Your attention was fully focused on the way his hands touched your body. He wanted to feel you. Every last inch of you. A small moan escaped your lips – and this was the moment, you got thrown back into reality. Your eyes opened and you almost pushed him off of you.

With a confused look on his face, he took two steps back. “Did I –”

“I have to go,” you cut him off, still out of your breath while the thoughts in your head went crazy. “Before Filch comes back. Wait a few more minutes, then leave.” With that, you left the room hastily.

Draco Malfoy stood in complete darkness for a whole minute, trying to figure out what just happened. He debated pinching himself to see if he was dreaming. Maybe he fell asleep at the party? But why on earth would he dream of _you_?

Malfoy shook his head and took a deep breath before ran his fingers through his air. Time to go. Time to think about this later. When Draco took a step forward, he almost tripped over something. Your shoe. You forgot your shoe. He bent down to pick it up. Does this mean he’d see you again? No, he could just send it to you. Yet, a teeny tiny part of him wasn’t completely repulsed by the thought of seeing you again. Although maybe this was the alcohol talking. Malfoy shook his head again. He had to go to bed and clear his head.

He opened the door carefully, listening for sounds. There. Someone tumbled around the corner. He squinted his eyes. The person looked like ...

„Y/N?"

… McLaggen. Fuck.


	3. Honesty

It was weird being back at Hogwarts. Something about it still didn’t feel right. After the war, it was unimaginable for you to come back here and finish school. But they took their time and closed it off for over a year. The school got rebuilt, the victims buried, the survivors tried to heal and move on. On the first anniversary of the end of the war, McGonagall – the new headmistress of Hogwarts – publicly announced that the school would open for the coming year and the seventh graders were given the chance to repeat their year.

You were excited about coming back and seeing your friends again, gaining a little bit of normalcy. School, homework, petty drama – you wanted nothing more than to be busy with all of those things. Yet something felt different when you stood in the Great Hall for the first time after your arrival. Something had changed. You had changed.

“You’re daydreaming again, Y/N.”

Ginny’s voice pulled you back into reality. Your best friend sat across from you with her eyebrows raised, chewing on a croissant.

“Tired,” you replied and smiled briefly.

“From what?”, she asked. “You left super early last night!”

“Yeah, because it was super boring.”

The redhead shook her head. “It was not! There was a fight between two Hufflepuffs and that’s the best indicator for a fun party.”

You chuckled. “Is it though?!”

“Or,” suddenly she put down her croissant. A devious smile appeared on her face and she began talking with a lowered voice: “Did you leave the party early with your date to –”

“I beg you to not finish that sentence, please!”

Ginny laughed. “Oh come on! McLaggen is kinda cute!”

“He’s awful.”

“He doesn’t need a good character to –”

“Ginny!” You playfully threw an apple at her. She caught it, laughing. “You’re the worst,” you said and shook your head.

Just when you wanted to change the topic, someone else started walked in. You stopped midsentence, staring at the couple who were coming down the hall, holding hands.

Ginny saw them too and she knew what you were about to do next. “Don’t, Y/N,” she said softly. “Stay here. At some point, you’ll have to face them. They’re our friends. He’s my brother. We have classes together now.”

You knew she was right. Yet, running away still seemed like a better option to you. Ginny sensed that, reached over the table and squeezed your hand. “Stay,” she repeated.

Ron and Hermione sat down right beside you, cheerfully wishing you a good morning. You didn’t reply but smiled at Harry instead who sat down next to Ginny and gave her a kiss. They were a cute couple and you were happy for the both of them. They finally found each other.

The four began to talk right away. It was still exciting to be in the same year as them, to finally share classes and spend so much time together. Well, not for you to be honest. You could happily live without seeing Ron every day.

You tuned out their conversation after a while, still debating whether or not you should leave the table. Your eyes drifted over the other students in the Great Hall and got stuck at the Slytherins. Not many people sat there as most of them had already finished breakfast. Before you knew what you were doing, you noticed he wasn’t here.

You felt a little sting of disappointment and frowned. Where did this came from? As if you cared about seeing Malfoy.

Saying that you didn’t replay that kiss in your mind over and over again would have been a lie. When you left the small room last night, you felt dizzy and confused. Yet you repeatedly told yourself that the kiss meant nothing. It happened so you didn’t get caught. Good god, it was Draco Malfoy, probably the last person in this school you wanted to kiss (well, besides McLaggen). So no. This kiss didn’t mean anything.

“Y/N?”, you turned your head when Hermione said your name.

“Why are you staring at the Slytherins?”, she asked.

You shrugged but the blush on your cheeks betrayed you. “No reason. I was thinking.”

She frowned. Ginny and Harry looked at each other in confusion.

“So? What is it?”, you asked.

“Right, um, we wanted to ask if you’d like to come play Quidditch with us?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you play Quidditch?”

“Ron taught me over the summer,” she smiled at her boyfriend. “Besides, they have to try out for the team in two weeks anyways so why not practice a little.”

You looked at Ron who stared at his plate. He probably felt as comfortable with the thought of you playing together as you did. The way he avoided your eyes made you angry though.

“No, sorry”, you quickly said and suddenly stood up. “Homework.” This was it. You had to leave.

***

You gritted your teeth angrily as you made your way up the stairs. God, you still hated him for how he treated you three months ago. You were supposed to be friends and he fucked it all up. Now you could barely stand the sight of him and every encounter left you feeling like you needed to punch a brick wall.

Being so lost in your thoughts, you almost ran around the corner, crashing into someone.

“Watch it, Y/L/N!”

_Great._

“Watch it yourself, Malfoy!”, you snapped.

Draco Malfoy stood in front of you, one hand in the pocket of his pants, the other gripping your arm to prevent you from falling down. It must have been out of instinct because as soon as he realized he was touching you, he let go as if you were a hot plate.

“Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed,” he stated dryly.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, lowering the tone of your voice a little. “And let me through.”

He did neither. “Did McLaggen find you after all?!”

“None of your business, Malfoy!” With that, you pushed him aside and continued walking down the corridor. You were too mad for Malfoys bullshit.

“Y/L/N!” Apparently he was particular talkative this morning.

You ignored him.

“I couldn’t care less for your obvious boy troubles –”

Who did he think he was?!

“– however, I still have something that belongs to you.”

This made you stop dead in your tracks and turn around. “What?”, you asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

He smirked. “Your shoe.”

Oh. Oops.

Annoyed, you shrugged. “So give it back to me.”

“It’s in the Slytherin common room.”

“I’d rather die than go down there.”

“I’d change the attitude if I were you. After all, you want something from me,” his voice grew colder.

You were unimpressed by that. “Make me,” you shot back.

There it was again – that look on his face. The same look he had yesterday as he gazed over your body in the small room. It made you shiver – and for a second you weren’t sure if it was the good or the bad kind of shiver.

Then he smirked again: “Quidditch field. Tonight after dinner.” And while he already started walking backwards he added: “I’d rather die than be caught talking to a Gryffindor.”

Goddamn Slytherins.

***

It was unusually cold for a September night. You shivered and zipped up your jacket, regretting that you didn’t bring a scarf. No student or teacher seemed to be outside at this time, only the occasional crow flying above your head and the rustling of leaves accompanied you on your way to the Quidditch field.

The reason why Malfoy chose the Quidditch field of all places to give you back your shoe was beyond your knowledge. Yet you didn’t complain. In about half an hour, your friends would join you. Before the war, this was one of your favourite spots to just hang out and talk.

When you arrived on the field, it took you a while to spot Malfoy. He sat way up on the bleachers. You groaned and made your way up the stairs. Malfoy didn’t notice that you came as he was busy writing something in a small green notebook. Huh. Interesting.

He flinched when you sat down beside him and quickly closed the book.

“What are you writing?”, you asked curiously.

Malfoy pretended not to hear your question and instead reached inside his bag. “Here,” he pulled out your shoe, handing it to you.

“Thanks,” you put in the small bag you brought. “So what are you writing?”

He looked at you with an annoyed expression. “You have what you want so you can go.”

“You’re no fun, Malfoy.”

“Says the Gryffindor.”

“Excuse me?”, you raised an eyebrow. “We’re more fun than all the Slytherins combined.”

“Right,” he scoffed.

Still, you didn’t move or leave so with a sigh, he added: “Do you have no friends to bother?”

You grinned. “I do. In fact, they’ll be here in –”, you took a look at your watch, “– twenty minutes.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Perfect.”

“Why did you tell me to meet you here?”

“I was gonna be here anyways,” he shrugged. “Easier to make you come to me.”

You ignored his sly remark. “You were going to be here anyways? Alone?”

Another shrug.

Leaning back, you watched Malfoy from the side. He had dark circles under his eyes and kept his gaze focused on the field, his fingers playing with the sides of the notebook. Something (beside you sitting next to him) bothered him.

“So what was up with you this morning?”, he broke the silence.

You raised an eyebrow. “As if you care.”

“No,” he admitted. “But you’re obviously not leaving until your friends come and that question might make you stop staring at me.”

You chuckled softly. Then you realized that he was actually waiting for an answer. “Nothing important.”

“I figured.”

“You’re a jerk.”

“Probably,” Malfoy stated without any emotion in his voice.

You were silent for a few seconds. Part of you wanted to get up and leave. After all, Malfoy was probably the last one you could trust. He didn’t care and it was literally none of his business. You didn’t even like each other. Keeping it simple and vague was probably the best approach: “Dumb stuff, really. Like you said – boy troubles.”

Malfoy shifted without noticing it, turning his body more towards you, leaning in a little. “Well, now I’m curious. Who managed to make Y/L/N this mad and can he teach me?”

“I don’t know if you’re keen on Ron being your teacher,” the sentence just slipped out. You regretted it right away.

Malfoys eyes widened. “No fucking way.” Then he began to smirk – that evil, ‘I’m-better-than-you’-smirk he had perfected over the years.

Your face felt like it was on fire and you were glad it was getting dark already. Maybe he wouldn’t notice the blush. “Oh, be quiet!”

“Weasley?”, he scoffed, not believing it. He stared at you with quite the interest now. There seemed to be a lot more to you than he would have guessed. “How the fuck did that happen? Isn’t he dating the … isn’t he dating Granger?”

You knew what he wanted to call her but were surprised that he stopped himself. That never happened before.

“Yes, he is,” you mumbled and gave him a suggestive look.

This caused Malfoy to laugh. It was a dry, short laugh. He leaned back a little. “You’re kidding, right? Fucking hell, Weasel managed to not only screw you but do so while dating Granger?”

“I like how eloquently you phrased that,” you said sarcastically.

He ignored you. “How did that happen?”

“Okay, first of all”, you began, “… they weren’t dating when it happened. I’m not a homewrecker, that’s probably more of a Slytherin thing.”

“Does she know?”

“Know what?”

“Does Granger know you two f–”

“Geez, Malfoy, watch your language,” you interrupted him quickly, before you added: “And no.”

“So cheating isn’t a Gryffindor thing but lying is?”, Malfoy concluded, smirking again. “Good to know.”

“Oh, shut up,” you raised your chin. You were right about this in the beginning – you shouldn’t have told him anything. How were you supposed to get this right? Even though there was no reason for you to explain yourself to him, you still felt the need to: “They were going through a crisis and broke up and well … I spent a few weeks with their family and I always considered Ron a good friend but … but something happened. And then he ended things with me and got back together with Granger. Well, he got back together with her first and announced it in front of everyone, including me.”

“That’s how he told you that you two were over?”

You nodded. “Yup.”

“Phew,” Malfoy let out a whistle. “Wow. I must admit, I’m impressed.”

“Sure you are.”

Suddenly Malfoys facial expression changed from amusement to confusion. “So what’s the big deal now? You two screwed a few times and now he’s playing house with Granger again.”

You sent him another suggestive glance which caused him to let out another laugh.

“Please don’t tell me you got feelings for the Weasel,” he said in complete disbelief. Then his eyes suddenly began to wander further down and you realized he was looking at your … body. Rude. Before you got the chance to put him in his place, he simply said: “You can do a lot better, y’know.”

Oh. This was unexpected. You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks again and felt actually a little flattered by his words. Yet, they confused you. Why would he give a Gryffindor a compliment?! Was there a hidden insult in it? Maybe a slight undertone you didn’t notice?

“It goes without saying that this conversation stays between us,” you cleared your throat. “No one knows about this whole mess except Ginny. And you.”

Malfoy nodded. “You put an awful lot of trust in me.”

“Don’t disappoint me then.”

The two of you were quiet for a few moments. It was almost completely dark by now and a nervous glance to your watch made you aware that Ginny and the rest of her friends might appear any second now. The silence grew uncomfortable after a while.

“What’s up with that whole engagement thing, you mentioned yesterday?”, you wanted to know, remembering that weird comment of him. “And don’t act all mysterious again. I told you my mess now you have to share yours.”

Malfoy snorted. “Ask away.”

This was easier than expected. “Are you dating the little Greengrass?” Totally understandable if he was – Astoria was the perfect mixture of smart and drop dead gorgeous. A lot of guys were into her.

“No.”

“She called you ‘honey’.”

“Yes.”

You frowned. “I’m confused.”

“Do I really have to explain to you how pureblood marriages work?”, Malfoy said with a mocking undertone.

“Of course not. I just thought we left that behind us when the war ended”, you remarked.

He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “As if hundreds of years of tradition can be forgotten with one war.”

“So you’re forced to marry her?”, you tried to understand the situation better.

“No, it’s an arranged marriage which is not even official yet,” Malfoy shifted slightly. “Mother would like it because the Greengrass family is still respected and …”

“… rich.”

He glanced at you quickly. “We lost a lot.”

“I bet,” you scoffed.

Abruptly, Malfoy got up and grabbed his bag. “I should leave.”

Out of instinct, you extended your hand to reach for him but stopped just inches in front of his arm. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that”, you apologized. Feelings of guilt and pity appeared inside of you as you didn’t expect him to be so openly hurt by what you said. “I heard … well, everyone heard about the trials and your parents and all that. Sorry.”

Malfoy hesitated but then sat down again. His whole demeanour had changed in just seconds. He had almost been … approachable but now the look in his eyes was as cold as ice again.

You cleared your throat. “Do you want to marry her?”

He didn’t answer right away. You wondered what went through his head in this moment.

“I don’t ask myself that.”

The answer didn’t surprise you. “Why not?”, you tried to dig deeper.

Again, a few seconds passed before he mumbled: “No, I don’t want to marry her. I hardly know her.”

“Hmm,” you nodded. “Does she want to marry you?”

“I don’t know”, he gave a half shrug. “She had a thing with Zabini over the summer so I guess … I’m probably not her first choice.”

The answer to all of his problems seemed so easy, you thought. Yet it would be met with much apprehension. Traditional pureblood families like his were difficult when it came to this stuff.

Knowing what his reaction would be, you still had to say it: “So don’t get engaged.” Before he could reply, you raised your hand. “Yeah, I know, traditions and all that bullshit. Why don’t you just start breaking traditions?”

Malfoy shook his head. “My family works a little different than yours.

“Not that different to be honest”, you whispered under your breath.

He heard you and you were met with a very confused look. When you didn’t elaborate, he continued talking: “Anyways, I can’t. I could try to postpone but I’d need a very convincing reason.”

“Like?”

“Another girl from a good family.”

“And?”

“And what?”

A grin appeared on your face. “There are at least ten girls I can name right away who’d love to get a shot with you.”

Seriously, even most of the Gryffindor girls your age had been crushing on Malfoy at least once. He was very attractive and clever and that whole ‘bad boy’-act made quite a few girls weak in their knees. You had noticed this too but being so close friends with Ginny and Harry those thoughts never found room to grow inside of you. In your mind, Malfoy had always been an arrogant jerk. _Still is,_ you corrected yourself quietly.

“Have you spoken with them since I became a –”

 _… a Death Eater,_ you finished the sentence in your head. Looking at the young man in front of you, wearing his school scarf while sitting in a sports stadium, the whole concept of him being a dangerous criminal just seemed absurd to you.

“Besides it’s a dumb idea”, he continued. “It would be a fake relationship and no one in their right mind would agree to that.” He let out a dry laugh. “Only a Gryffindor can think of something like that.”

In that moment, your eyes met. Never before did you notice the unusual colors in them like you did now. The piercing grey reminded you of storm clouds on an autumns day. Yeah, a fake relationship. Who in their right mind would … Unless …

The sudden thought that appeared in your mind made you flinch. He seemed to be thinking the same when he quickly broke the eye contact, straightening up and staring over at the field.

You got up in a rush, swinging your back over your shoulder. To your big relief, Ginny and your friends had just entered the Quidditch field. Their laughter echoed through the whole area.

„I should go. There’s Ginny.”

He nodded. “Right.”

“Thanks for the shoe.” Could this situation be any more awkward?! You doubted it. Hastily you turned around and almost stumbled over your own feet when you made our way back to the stairs. Something else came suddenly to your mind.

“Oh, and Malfoy?”, you stopped. He didn’t turn to look at you but you knew he heard you by the way he slightly moved his head. “I know a lot of fucked up stuff happened and pureblood families are the worst but … but don’t spend the rest of the year sitting here alone. I bet that there are still quite a few of your Slytherin friends that want to spend time with you.”

There was nothing you expected him to say in response to that so it surprised you when he suddenly said your name. “Y/L/N?”

“Yes?”

“Get over Weasley. It’s beneath you.”

You were glad he didn’t see the big grin on your face.

***

Ginny was surprised to see you coming down the stairs and running across the field. She wondered what you did up there and frowned when he saw a guy sitting there with the all too familiar white-blond hair.

“Is that Malfoy up there? Were you talking to him?”, she wanted to know when you finally reached the group.

“Oh, um,” you stuttered. “We ran into each other.”Ginny squinted her eyes. “Right”, she doubted. “How did you –”

 _Bang!_ You let out a short scream at the sudden noise.

“Sorry!” Someone shouted and a very distressed looking Seamus Finnigan appeared behind dark smoke.

“What the hell did you do?” Ginny squeaked and with that she forgot all about Malfoy.

You looked back up to where he was sitting just a minute ago. He was gone now. A weird feeling was left inside of you after the rather unusual conversation you had with the Slytherin. You shook your head, trying to get rid of it and turned your full attention back to your friends.


	4. Potions

The moments you and Malfoy shared on the Quidditch field that Saturday night kept replaying in your head for weeks. It’s beneath you. The sentence had stuck with you. You knew he was right about it. Ron Weasley didn’t deserve any more of your attention. However, it seemed impossible to get rid of the anger that filled you every time you saw him. 

You spent so many days together and never wanted to fall for him – no, you tried to stay away when he first approached you, feeling it was not right. Hermione was your friend and you knew, this behavior would hurt her. But he wouldn’t stop trying to get you to go out with him and before you knew it, he teared down all the walls you had so carefully built around yourself. It was the first time in a long while that you felt like a normal teenager and just when you started to trust him and the first feelings started to blossom – he turned away, acting like your time together never happened. It hurt. It hurt so fucking much. And who was Malfoy to understand that?

You avoided Ron whenever possible, keeping yourself busy with schoolwork and Quidditch. For the first time ever you joined the team and it turned out to be an amazing decision as it took your mind of things. Things mainly being Ron or Malfoy.

You watched Malfoy during meals out of the corner of your eyes. He usually sat together with Zabini, Parkinson and Nott, listening to them but not joining in the conversations apart from the occasional smile or remark. In class, he sat in the back, working quietly on his own. Sometimes you passed him in the hallways or the library and then you noticed him writing in the black notebook over and over.

A strange fascination kept drawing your attention towards the young man. He was not the Malfoy you grew accustomed to over the years – no more stupid fights or devious pranks. A lot less mean remarks and insults. Of course you knew the reason behind his change but it didn’t stop you from searching for his white blond hair in the crowds, wanting to watch him from afar.

You wondered about his life. He spoke about so many personal things that night. Although it was always with a sarcastic or cynical undertone, the painful honesty behind his words now sent shivers down your back when you thought about it. Yet, not once did you talk to him again afterwards – and he avoided you too as far as you could tell. At least, he always looked away when your eyes accidentally met from across the room, focusing on the book in front of him again. That notebook was another riddle. Although you already guessed what it was, you were curious nonetheless.

Soon the days grew colder and the leaves turned brown. Less time was spent outside, more and more did you find yourself huddled in front of the common room fireplace with a mug of hot tea and a good book. Hogwarts started to feel like home again. It was a slow process but each day the memories began to be replaced with new ones. Better ones. For some it was harder than for others. Ginny was one of them. She smiled and laughed loudly during the days but some nights were still difficult.

Tonight was one of them. You opened your eyes, blinking a few times as you needed a moment to fully wake up. Something startled you in your sleep. Then you heard someone tossing and turning – it came from Ginnys bed. You reached for your wand and whispered “Lumos”. Shining the light towards your friend, you saw her distorted facial expressions as her hands kept twitching. She was mumbling something you didn’t understand at first but then one word stood out – Fred.

You were up on your feet in seconds, kneeling next to her bed. “Ginny,” you softly touched her arm. “Ginny, wake up.”

Her eyes flew open and a gasp escaped her lips.

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “Just a nightmare.”

“I-I saw –,” she stuttered and looked at you, slowly realizing where she was. When she did however, she remembered about him as well. You saw what would happen next by the way her lips started to tremble and without hesitation pulled her into a hug. Tears were streaming down her face, quiet sobs shaking her whole body. You held her for minutes, stroking her back, wishing you could do something to ease her pain.

At some point Ginny let go of you, reaching for a tissue on her nightstand. “I’m sorry for waking you up,” she mumbled after cleaning her nose.

You smiled empathetically at her. “Don’t worry.”

She sighed, smiling back at you sadly before she started rummaging through the drawer. “Damn,” she pulled out an empty bottle.

“What is it?”, you asked.

“It helps me sleep,” she explained and added – after she saw your worried expression – with a chuckle: “It’s nothing addicting, don’t worry. It’s just … ugh, I knew I forgot something.” She let herself fall back against the pillow.

“Where do you normally get it from?” You looked at the small bottle. It didn’t look like she bought it somewhere. It looked handmade.

“Madame Pomfrey.”

You nodded, standing up to grab a robe. “I’ll get it.”

“No! Oh, Y/N, please don’t, I can manage,” Ginny tried to protest but you shook your head.

“It’s fine, really!”, you smiled at her.

“She’s probably asleep anyways.”

“She always has someone working the night shift. I’ll just grab that –,” you took the battle and put it in the pocket of your robe. “– and I’ll be right back.”

***  
Hogwarts at night always felt a little creepy. Dark and long hallways, ghosts passing you by and that eerie silence … A shiver ran down your spine and you sped up a little, wanting to be back in bed as fast as possible.

The door to the hospital wing was open, illuminated by a glimmer of light coming from inside. Good, so someone was there. You slipped through the door and made your way towards the office of Madame Pomfrey.

“Come in,” she called when you knocked on the door.

She was turned away from you, her nose stuck in a book. To your surprise, she wasn’t the only one in the small office. In front of her desk stood no other than … Draco Malfoy.

“Oh.”

Malfoy didn’t look at you. “The healer that has worked for my family for decades said it’s alright,” he said with a pressed voice, directing it at Madame Pomfrey.

The woman sighed softly before she turned around. “Well, honey, your healer probably also gets paid by your family.”

“What that’s supposed to mean?”, Malfoy asked, sounding almost offended.

“Nothing,” she replied. “But I disagree with him. Although the medicine has no immediate side effects, prolonged and excessive use of it can make it stop working altogether. I believe, this wouldn’t help you very much either and –”

“I know, I know,” he interrupted her, clearly having had this talk before.

Madame Pomfrey continued talking in a stern voice: “I refilled your bottle twice during the past ten days – it says so in my book here and I keep very good track of all my patients – so I can’t give you anymore.” A sad smile appeared on her face. “I’m sorry, honey. I can however offer you this.“ She pulled a small cotton bag from one of the drawers. “It contains different herbs. Put it under your pillow and it’ll help you sleep.“

Malfoy hung his head, looking defeated and exhausted. „What about the … dreams?“

„I’m so sorry, honey, but there’s nothing I can do about it.”

With another sigh, he finally gave in and took the cotton bag. “Good night,” he muttered and left the room, without even glancing in your direction.

Feeling as if you had just witnessed something that wasn’t meant for you to see, you stood awkwardly in the corner of the room, waiting for the healer to speak.

“Poor boy,” she mumbled and shook her head with a sad expression. Then she looked at you: “What are you here for, dear?”

You took a step forward, holding up the bottle.

“Oh dear, this is really in demand tonight,” she took it from you.

So Malfoy was using the same medicine as Ginny? Interesting.

“It’s for Ginny Weasley,” you explained. “She’s not doing well tonight so I came to get it.”

Madame Pomfrey nodded, quickly glancing into her patient book. Then she disappeared behind a few shelves and came back with a fully filled bottle. “It’s been a while for her. I’m glad to see she’s needing less,” she said. “Give her my best. Good night, honey!”

“Good night,” you replied, smiling at her.

Stepping outside the office, you were surprised to see Malfoy leaning against the hospital wing doors. He looked nervous, shifting uncomfortably, drawing circles on the ground with his foot.

“You forget something?”, you asked when you reached him.

He looked at you for the first time, his eyes taking your pajamas and bathrobe. “Nice outfit,” he sneered.

“Have you looked in the mirror?”, you replied sarcastically, pushing the doors open. You referred to the sweatpants and the oversized shirt he was wearing, surprised someone like Malfoy even owned such clothes.

He followed you outside. “I was just –”, he began after a moment. “I wanted to make sure –”

“I haven’t met anyone on my way to Madame Pomfrey. She was alone in her office,” you interrupted him, guessing where this was going.

“Right,” Malfoy mumbled.

“Anything else?” You stopped by a large staircase. “I have to go up here.”

He shook his head. “No.” After a brief moment of hesitation, he added: “Good night, Y/L/N.”

You could hear the unspoken ‘thank you’ within those three words and sent him a very tired smile, just wanting to get back to bed. “Night, Malfoy.”

*** 

You were the first to arrive at the Potions classroom and leaned against the cold stone wall with a yawn. It was the last class for today and you looked forward to going back to your room for a quick nap. 

Ginny had fallen asleep quickly after you had brought her the medicine and so did you. Although, you had a restless night after that, waking up countless times from weird dreams. All of them featuring one specific person: Malfoy. The two of you walking through the Forbidden Forest, sitting in your childhood room, talking on the Astronomy Tower. Waking up confused and not feeling rested at all, you wondered what it meant. Why would you ever dream of him? Just because you talked a couple of times and you accidentally got involved in very personal situations? Just because you kissed once? Oh, the kiss – also a frequent visitor in your dreams. Not that it meant anything. He was an objectively good kisser, nothing more, nothing less.

“Y/N?”

You looked up when someone called your voice. Ron walked towards you, noticeably agitated.  
“You have a couple minutes?”, he asked.

No, was your immediate thought. “Yes.”

“Good, good,” he looked behind himself, checking if anyone else was in the hallway, fiddling nervously with his hands. “It’s about Hermione.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What about her?”

“Well, I know you told Ginny about … us,” he started. “She screamed at me more than once for it.” 

You suppressed a smile.

“Anyways, I was wondering … please don’t tell Hermione,” Ron finally managed to get out.

His request irritated you. “Don’t you think I would have told her by now if I wanted her to know?”

“I … No, I don’t know,” he shrugged. “You know how girls are.”

“Excuse me?” There it was again – the all too familiar rage starting to form inside of you. “How are we girls?”

He sighed. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just noticed you’ve been avoiding me ever since school started and Hermione even started questioning me about this and I’m afraid it’s some sort of plan of yours to … y’know, get back at me.”

“What the fuck, Ron! How manipulative do you think I am?”, you spat at him. “I don’t care about your stupid relationship and I’m not getting involved. I know it’s hard for you to comprehend but some people actually still have values and don’t treat their supposed friends like shit!”

“Treat you like shit?”, now he started to raise his voice as well. “When have I ever –”

You interrupted him: “Don’t act dumber than you are!”

His face slowly began to turn red. “I never once said we were anything serious!”

“You joked about marriage!”

“Yes, Y/N,” he hissed. “I joked about it.”

You started at him in disbelief. “You’re such a jerk.”

“And you’re … you’re … ugh,” he stammered, his face still glowing red. “It’s not like I don’t have any feelings for you! I had a huge crush on you but Hermione …” He crossed his arms. “I can’t have both and she’s …”

“No, you can’t,” you glared at him. “Now, get the fuck away from me.”

Ron clenched his teeth, not making any efforts to follow your demand. “You have to promise me you won’t tell her!”

This guy was unbelievable. “I don’t have to do anything!”

“Y/N, you have to –” 

“Has your mother taught you no manners, Weasley?”, a sudden voice said behind him. Malfoy arrived at the classroom door, nonchalantly letting his bag slip from his shoulders and leaning against the wall across from you. “She wants you to leave her alone.”

Irritatedly, Ron looked at him. “Shut your mouth, Malfoy. I’m talking to Y/N!”

“No, you’re harassing her,” his voice was cold as ice. “So leave or you’ll regret it.”

Ron scoffed. “Yeah, right. What are you gonna do, Death Eater?”

“Mr. Weasley!” Professor Slughorn stood in the now open to the classroom, looking at the three of you in shock. “How dare you insult your fellow classmate like that?”

Ron’s eyes widened. “I’m … He provoked me, Professor!” He pointed a finger at Malfoy who raised his hand in a ‘I-don’t-know-what-he’s-talking-about’-gesture.

Slughorn shook his head in disappointment. “Mr. Weasley, you will come with me. You two”, he looked at you and Malfoy. “Class will start in ten minutes. You can come in once your classmates arrive.”

You nodded and Ron trotted inside, head hanging low. Then the door closed behind him. Turning towards Malfoy, he was watching you with an unreadable expression on his face. 

“Beneath you,” he mouthed silently.

Letting out a huff of air, you rolled your eyes. “I don’t need you to come to my rescue. Ever.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t come to your rescue though. I just can’t stand the sound of Weasleys voice.”

“Right,” you stood up straight.

Anger and disbelief were the only two emotions you felt in this moment. To think that just three months ago, you were head over heels falling for this boy – and now, he acted like such an idiot. Running around, completely disregarding the feelings of others. Your feelings. Your eyes began to burn and you swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears from coming. He didn’t deserve any of that.

You could feel Malfoy still watching you. Thankfully, he stayed quiet.

Finally, the others arrived. Inside the classroom, you were met by an angry looking Ron. “Two weeks of detention,” he hissed when Harry sat down next to him. “For telling the truth about Malfoy! Can you believe it?!”

Serves you right, you thought.

“Open your book, page 124,” Slughorn announced when the students had settled down. “You’ll work on the assignment in pairs of two. Following pupils will work together: Miss Parkinson and Miss Granger …” 

Before he could continue, both girls started to protest. He raised his hand. “No, you cannot switch. As we told you in the beginning of the school year, we will actively try to demolish the house rivalry. Making you work together is an important step towards this goal. So, let me continue, please. Mister Zabini and Mister Finnigan, Miss Weasley and Mister Nott, Mister Malfoy and Miss Y/L/N …”

Oh for gods sake. Did the universe desperately plotted to get the two of you to spend time together? Suppressing a groan, you grabbed your books, going over to Malfoys table at the back of the class.

Wordlessly, he grabbed his bag, removing it from the chair next to him.

“Seven years of not talking alone once and now I have to put up with you every second day.” You wanted the sentence to come out nicer than it did and mentally slapped yourself for sounding so mean.

Nevertheless, Malfoy nodded in agreement. “I’m just as thrilled about this as you are, Y/L/N.”

The two of you started working quietly and efficiently. Potions had always come easy to you, even when Snape used to be the teacher, and apparently, Malfoy seemed to be just as skilled. 

“Did you tell anyone?”, you broke the silence suddenly while stirring the violet liquid inside the cauldron.

He quickly glanced at you. “If I did you would have noticed.”

Probably true.

“Did you?”

You shook your head. “Nope.”

The two of you continued working for a while. You kept glancing at Malfoy, remembering the dreams from last night. A strange sense of curiosity formed inside of you. You watched him, the way he read the instructions carefully, mumbling to himself at times. Then suddenly your eyes began trailing off, wandering down to your lips. The moment in the storage room suddenly flashed before your eyes and without noticing, you licked over your own lips.

“Enjoying the view, Y/L/N?“

You realized in terror that Malfoy had stopped working and was now looking at you with an amused expression.

“No, what, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you uttered, your cheeks burning from embarrassment.

“Don’t worry, I know of the effect I can have on women.“

You snorted. „You’re awfully arrogant, Malfoy.“

„It’s the truth. Not even good Gryffindors such as yourself can resist the Malfoy charm,” he chuckled to himself.

“In your dreams, Malfoy.“

He didn’t reply to that but instead smirked at you, causing you to blush even more. “Don’t worry, my standards aren’t low enough for you.”

“Says the girl who slept with Weasley,” he had leaned in and whispered those words very close to your ear. 

You knew no one could have possibly heard him but flinched nevertheless and lightly hit his arm. “Shh!”

Malfoy chuckled. “We’re done, Professor,” he then announced loudly and stepped back from the table.

Slughorn came over, taking a good look at your work. “Mhm, very well done,” he concluded after a moment. “You’ll receive an excellent mark for that. Well done! You can clean up and then start your homework assignment. Page 125.”

You smiled at the old man, happy about his praise and happy, that working together with Malfoy had been such an easy task,

“Anyways,” you began when the two of you had cleaned the table and stored everything away. “How’s that whole thing going?” You nodded towards the place where Astoria Greengrass was sitting.

Malfoy simply shrugged. “Every day I’m one step closer to go looking for a fake girlfriend.”

You snorted. 

It was a strange feeling, having disliked Malfoy for so long and now being able to converse so easily. In your mind, you knew it would have been smarter to stay away, avoid him whenever possible. At least for your family that was the smarter approach. He had been a Death Eater and even though you’d never bring it up and strongly believed in second chances, his family still upheld these values. They still fought on the wrong side of the war. It disturbed you how effortlessly you had formed a connection with him.

You looked up from your book when you felt that strange sensation of someone staring at you. A little irritated, you searched the room with your eyes. It was Ron. The redhead was staring at you angrily from across the class and when you saw him like that, the weirdest thought popped into your head:

How mad would he be if I were to be Malfoys girlfriend?

It was a crazy thought, nothing you planned on taking seriously. But Ron admitted he had felt something for you. So how funny would it be to pretend you were dating his childhood enemy? Oh, he would be fuming.

You looked over to Malfoy who was scribbling on a piece of paper. No. No, this was too crazy. Right? Of course, it would be just for fun – just to get back at Ron. He even accused you of having some sort of plan to hurt him. You never considered yourself a person who was interested in revenge but this would be harmless. It wouldn’t even count as revenge. It would help Malfoy out and piss Ron off. Win-win. A few months of playing ‘happy couple’ in public and it would be done. A simple task. No way would you be able to develop any deeper feelings for that Slytherin. No way.


	5. You

Draco Malfoy wasn’t easy to impress. Being bored quickly by other people was one reason why he never had many close friends – and yes, he knew how utterly arrogant that sounded. It was the truth however. He was friendly with most of the Slytherins but his mother always taught him “Quality over quantity” and he agreed. Draco went so far as to apply that mindset to his love life as well. Yes, before the sixth year of school, he used to like to flirt and he had dated the occasional Slytherin girl. He was also very aware of the fact that there had been quite a few girls with crushes on him. In some cases, he even reciprocated them, however, those feelings faded quickly.

So you couldn’t imagine how much it bothered Malfoy that he wasn’t able to stop thinking of you. Not even in his dreams did you leave him alone and so he kept on going back to that evening on the Quidditch field. Until today, it was entirely unclear to him why he told you all those things. He didn’t know anything about you yet speaking to you left him feeling … good, almost. After a year of trials and coming home to find his family and life in shambles, there was no one left to talk to. No one he wanted to talk to. To whom was he going to turn? His friends which were all coming from the same pureblood Death Eater families? Yes, of course, they understood – and also they didn’t. Not quite. Did you understand him? Probably not, he guessed. After all, you were a Gryffindor and fought on the right side of the war. The winning side. But talking to you felt different, almost easy. You grew up in another world than him and maybe that was the key to it all.

Obviously, Draco didn’t plan on repeating that evening. You were friends with the whole Potter and Weasley bunch. It made it even harder to trust you – how could he be sure you hadn’t already told your Gryffindor friends and were laughing about him behind his back? It was possible. A part of him didn’t want to believe this possibility and another part reminded him of all the times he was disappointed and got hurt by the people around him. It was probably for the best to stay away from you.

Yet he didn’t stop thinking of you. He saw you looking at him in the Great Hall during meals, watched you from walk away when you passed him in hallways and the library. Without noticing it, he always chose a place behind you in class. Draco didn’t understand the urge to be close to you. It was utterly ridiculous for Merlin’s sake. You were a Gryffindor; one of the good ones. He wasn’t. Not at all.

Maybe it was because of the kiss, he wondered at some point. Maybe you hexed him in this moment. Draco knew this theory was very far-fetched but it was the only logical explanation fin his mind. Why else would he keep thinking back to that moment in the storage room? He didn’t deny that you were witty and smart and very beautiful – he wasn’t blind after all – but so were lots of girls. What the hell was so special about you that you wouldn’t leave his thoughts?! It couldn’t be your taste in men as you obviously didn’t have any. At least there wasn’t a reasonable explanation for him for why someone like you would get with someone like the Weasel.

“Draco,” Blaise’s voice pulled him out of this thoughts. “You coming?”

Draco nodded. “Yeah, just a second.” 

He got up from the table in their shared dorm, putting his notebook in the drawer of his nightstand. Two months since school started and he had almost filled in all of its pages. Draco started writing during the first trial of his parents last year. It kept him focused and helped him put his thoughts in order. It soon became a daily ritual which helped him stay grounded. Draco carried it around in his bag during the day, using it in between classes and meals. His friends caught him doing it a lot and he was sure they had already guessed what it was. He was glad when they didn’t say anything because in the end, Draco would have rather died before admitting that he was using a diary.

“You’re not wearing a costume!”, Astoria exclaimed when he joined the others in the common room. Pansy, Blaise, Theodore and the Greengrass sisters were already waiting for him.

There was a Halloween party happening in the Room of Requirements tonight and his friends had convinced him to go even though it meant more awkward conversations with Astoria.

“I thought we’re not doing muggle traditions. What are you supposed to be?”, he asked instead, taking in her revealing outfit.

She giggled. “I’m a healer. Or ‘nurse’ as the muggles call it.”

“Ah,” Draco made, thinking that she didn’t look like a healer at all. “I thought Halloween was supposed to be scary?”

Astoria rolled her eyes, before linking their arms with each other. “You’re no fun. Don’t you think I look pretty?”

“Astoria, you can wear a potato sack and still look absolutely stunning.”

That answer seemed to satisfy her and they started making their way towards the exit of the common room. Draco glanced at her from the side. She was, objectively speaking, the perfect match for a Malfoy. Coming from a well-respected and wealthy pureblood family combined with her intelligence and beauty, she was everything his parents could have wanted for him. Especially now.

You had told him what to do. It was such a simple solution to all of his impending problems. However, it had been the moment where Draco had realized that you grew up differently. Not a day went by where he didn’t receive a heartbreaking letter from his mother. He knew, she just wanted the best for him and she didn’t want to manipulate him; she was simply desperate. Desperate for the live they used to have – a husband at home, a son with a promising future, money and a respected place in society.

Draco had asked himself countless times what the marriage would truly mean. His family would have another chance. Together with Astorias family, his future was secured. A good job, maybe even in the ministry if he was lucky. Enough money to take care of his mother. Who knew, maybe his father would be out of Azkaban sooner? Draco marrying Astoria would lessen his families suffering, that was for sure. But did he want that? Did he want a simple and easy solution to make their past crimes … disappear? His family was far from innocent. They had committed horrible crimes in the name of the Dark Lord – and a part of him knew, they deserved everything they got in the end. Hell, he wouldn’t have been surprised if they sent his mother and him to Azkaban as well. 

When thinking about the engagement, another thought popped into his head. Could he learn to love Astoria? Would he be happy with her? Maybe. Maybe not. Draco knew only one thing for sure – there was a reason why he kept resisting to the whole idea. Giving in felt like sacrificing another part of himself to something his family had burdened him with.

“And Astoria, I disagree,” Blaise once again disrupted his train of thought by joining in from the right. “Draco can quickly make his costume appear. Just roll up your sleeves, Dray, and the Gryffindors will shit their pants on the spot.”

The rest of the group snickered but Draco didn’t react. Instead he suppressed the urge to touch the mark on his left arm and shoved his hand deeper into the pocket of his pants.

***   
The Room of Requirement was absolutely crowded. 

The Slytherins were surprised by how many people had actually appeared. Almost everyone from the sixth and seventh grade was here, wearing mostly ridiculous costumes. Music roared from invisible speakers, students were dancing and talking loudly.

“I’m surprised that the teachers didn’t already break this up,” Blaise almost had to shout. “Or Filch.”

Draco shrugged. “I feel like they stopped caring this year.”

“Maybe they feel responsible for all those deaths,” Theo suggested.

“So to make up for all the trauma, they allow us to party?”, Blaise concluded with an amused undertone.

“It’s good for us though so stop talking and start drinking,” Pansy chirped and grabbed Draco and Theo by their arms, pulling them towards the table with a few questionable bottles.

When his friends started chatting about the usual Hogwarts gossip, Draco’s eyes started to wander. He was searching the crowd for someone. You. Were you here? Did you even like parties? Draco had no idea. You always looked quite social from what he witnessed.

And there you were – standing in a group of people, listening to Granger who was gesticulating wildly. You were holding a drink and laughing at whatever the other girl told you. Draco noticed from across the room how your eyes were gleaming, your face red from the alcohol. You looked so careless. He swallowed hard at the sight.

“He’s either staring at Weasley, the mudblood or Y/L/N,” Zabini said to the others in that moment. “Don’t know what’s worse.”

Draco needed a second to understand his friends were talking about him. “What did you just say?” He turned to them.

Zabini grinned widely at him. “I said, you’re staring at the Gryffindors again, Draco. It’s fucking weird. What’s your sudden obsession with them?”

Draco quickly glanced at the rest of his friends. Daphne, Theodore and Pansy watched the two of you with a smirk on their lips, maybe even suppressing a giggle. Astoria stared at Draco with a worried expression.

“No, what did you just say?”, Draco repeated his question, straightening up slightly. “What did you call Granger?”

Blaise snorted. “What?”

Draco just stared at him.

“I called her a mudblood,” Blaise gave a half shrug.

“Yeah, what the fuck, Blaise,” Draco spat out.

“Come on, Dray,” Theodore tried to intervene. “It’s no big deal.”

“It is!” He looked at him, visibly disgusted.

“What’s your problem, Draco?”, Blaise raised an eyebrow, shifting from one leg to another. “You called her a mudblood for years and now you suddenly have a problem with it? You’re acting so weird this year, seriously.”

Before Draco was able to reply, Astoria carefully placed her hand on his arm. It took all the strength he had, not to immediately shake her off. “Come on,” she said softly. “Let’s get you a new drink and calm down.” She pulled him a few steps away from the group.

Draco gritted his teeth, remembering what he had thought about not being able to talk to his old friends. They understood – and also they didn’t.

“Are you okay, Draco?” Astoria asked, still looking slightly alarmed.

Draco looked at her. Did she want to hear an honest answer? “Sure,” he finally said.

She didn’t buy it. “You’ve been acting strange for a while now.”

“I’m really not.”

“Draco,” she reached for his hand. “I know you.”

He sighed and rubbed his eyes with his free hand. “Can we … can we not talk about this now? Here? With all these people around us?”

“There’s always a reason not to talk so we might as well do it here,” she pressed on.

Draco could think of a thousand different things he’d rather do than talk to her right now. “I’m … I’m not acting strange. It’s just a lot. With my parents and all that.”

Her smile changed from worried to pity. “I understand.” Did she? “That’s why I think we should move on.”

What kind of weird reaction was this? “Move on?”, Draco frowned.

“With our engagement.”

“Right.”

Astoria squeezed his hand. “I don’t see why we can’t just make it official.”

Draco looked at her fingers as if he was searching for a ring that he had forgotten existed. “Because the whole thing isn’t official yet,” he slowly said.

The brunette let go of his hand. “It’s going to happen anyways. My parents won’t stop talking about it and I bet it’s no different for your mother.”

Draco just wanted to get out of this situation. He got dragged here and now it was just one big argument. Why couldn’t they have stuck to gossiping and partying? “Why during school though?”

He saw how Astoria stared at the ground for a moment. When she started speaking again, her voice had become a little colder. “You know, there are a lot of men who would jump at this opportunity. My family is well respected and yours is …”

Draco let out a short whistle. “Thanks, Astoria,”

Astoria was visibly uncomfortable and Draco wondered if she regretted what she had just said. “That’s not how I meant it and you know that, Dray. I just don’t understand why this takes you so long.”

Draco put his hands on hips, pushing his jacket back. “Excuse me if I’m wrong,” he started, “But I’m not exactly your first choice either, am I?”

The girl didn’t answer right away. When she did though, Draco wanted to laugh at the sheer absurdity. “It’s not about what I want. It’s about what my parents want. Pureblood marriages will happen less and less in the future so we will be a good union.”

“Right,” Draco mumbled with a sad smile. It’s all about the family.

Astoria cleared her throat. “Well, are there any reasons why we shouldn’t move on?”

“Yes, there are.”

This didn’t come from Draco or Astoria. Irritated by the sudden interruption, he turned around to see who had so rudely eavesdropped on the conversation.

You.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the amazing feedback!! <3


	6. Halloween

“Maybe, and I mean just maybe – please don’t be insulted by it – it is you, Hermione,” you managed to get out between laughter. “Potions aren’t your strong suit.”

The brown-haired girl shook her head. “No, no, no! It’s not my fault that he is utterly incompetent when it comes to teaching. There’s a reason why that man has the word ‘slug’ in his name!”

The girls around her started laughing again. Hermione had been ranting about their potions teacher and his (in her opinion) unfair grading system for the past ten minutes, gesticulating wildly.

“Hard to believe you fought against You-Kn-, you fought against Voldemort but can’t get along with Slughorn this year,” you snorted.

Hermione wagged her finger at you. “See, this is the point: Voldemort was almost predictable compared to him!” She threw her hands in the air. “He just does as he pleases, trying to ruin my future career!”

Before she could continue her rant about you, Ginny nudged you with her elbow. “The ferret is staring at you,” she nodded in the direction of the door. “Look.”

You followed her gaze and saw a group of people standing in a small circle. All Slytherins and to your surprise, some even wore costumes. Among them was Malfoy – and you felt a small sting of disappointment when you noticed, Malfoy wasn’t paying attention to you. Instead he stared at Zabini like that guy had just personally insulted his mother. Frowning and confused, you wanted to turn to your friends again when suddenly the little Greengrass reached for Malfoys arm. For a split second you could have sworn that you saw him flinch.

Huh.

“He’s not staring at me,” you finally said to Ginny, trying to sound unbothered.

“Well, he was! Just until now!” She took another sip of her drink.

You shook your head. “I don’t think so.”

“Yeah right,” suddenly a grin appeared on Ginnys face. “Just a coincidence. The same way it’s also a coincidence that he always sits right behind you in class and the two you keep staring at each other the whole freaking day.”

“We do not!”, you protested. “You’re talking nonsense.”

“Come on, Y/N, it’s painfully obvious!”

Were you really looking at him that often?

“Malfoy?”, Hermione chimed in with a frown on her face. “Really? Don’t you think that’s a little beneath you, Y/N?”

You stared at her, suddenly at a loss for words. 

Beneath you.

“My drink is empty,” you cleared your throat, thinking of how to get out of here. “I’ll be right back.” Before anyone could say any more, you disappeared in the crowd.

The Room of Requirements was filled with people. Almost everyone had come to the Halloween party – an idea that originated somewhere in Hufflepuff – wearing the funniest costumes. You had looked forward to this night. It was your favorite season of the year; the beautiful colors surrounding Hogwarts, the crisp air in the mornings, rainy days spent in the library, and of course – Halloween. Despite it being a muggle tradition, you still liked to celebrate it and so you were excited when you heard about the party. The amount of students that appeared in the end made you worried that the teachers or Filch would break this up sooner or later. But two hours in and nothing had happened so far.

The table with the drinks was awfully close to the group of the Slytherins. Malfoy and Greengrass had stepped aside and you awkwardly brushed past them, keeping your head down. They didn’t seem to notice.

The fight with Ron and the Potions class happened almost two weeks ago. Since then, you hadn’t exchanged another word with the redhead (thank god) but you still occasionally thought about whole fake boyfriend thing. (Especially when you saw Ron at meals, eating noisily or telling one of his oh so funny stories.) It would drive him mad. Not that it was an appropriate option at all but the thought of his reactions amused you nonetheless.

As you poured yourself another drink, Astorias voice came to you through the loud music: “I don’t see why we can’t just make it official.”

Malfoy needed a moment to reply. “Because the whole thing isn’t official yet.”

Oh. 

Instantly, you knew what they were talking about. You thought about leaving, it’d be the right thing to do as this was none of your business, but then caught yourself purposefully slowing down your movements, taking your sweet time as you put the bottle back.

“It’s going to happen anyways,” Greengrass continued in a pressing tone. “My parents won’t stop talking about it and I bet it’s no different for your mother.”

You heard the Slytherin sigh. “Why during school though?”

Good question, you thought. Pureblood marriages typically happened early but couldn’t they at least wait until after graduation?

“You know, there are a lot of men who would jump at this opportunity. My family is well respected and yours is …”

What the hell.

“Thanks, Astoria,” Malfoy replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Astoria probably regretted what she had just said and you heard her trying to soften the blow: “That’s not how I meant it and you know that, Dray. I just don’t understand why this takes you so long.”

You quickly glanced over to the two of them. Draco looked agitated, a deep frown on his face: “Excuse me if I’m wrong but I’m not exactly your first choice either, am I?”

Again some time passed before she answered. When she did though, you wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her. “It’s not about what I want. It’s about what my parents want. Pureblood marriages will happen less and less in the future so we will be a good union.”

Staring at the drink in your hand, you raised an eyebrow. You had witnessed discussions like these before but they usually weren’t carried out by people your age. It disturbed you because it was so clearly against what both of them truly wanted.

“Right,” you heard Draco mumble. He couldn’t be serious.

“Well, are there any reasons why we shouldn’t move on?”

Yes. Yes, there are, you wanted to shout and gritted your teeth. Adding to you frustration, Draco stayed quiet.

“Excuse me?”

You needed a moment to realize this question was directed at you. Only after Astoria called you by your name, your eyes widened as you turned towards them, gripping the drink in your hand tightly. Both Slytherins were staring at you. Greengrass a little more confused, Malfoy a little more amused. (Seriously, why was he always so amused at everything you did.)

“Did I say that out loud?”, you asked in a high-pitched voice. Embarrassed, you cleared your throat.

“Yes, Y/L/N”, Astoria snarled. By Merlin, she could really switch this mean girl voice on. “What did you mean by that?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged, trying to play it off.

“Cut it out, you felt the need to eavesdrop on a private discussion so whatever you have to say, say it, Gryffindor,” she hissed.

You pondered about your options. Confronting Astoria Greengrass meant drama. You knew the Slytherins too well for that. On the other hand, you felt the strong urge to intervene even though this didn’t affect you and it shouldn’t even bother you to begin with. Not your life. Certainly not your problem.

“Well, why do you have important private conversations at parties?”, you finally countered.

Astoria stared at you with a deadly expression.

Alright then. “And yes,” you continued, “there are reasons.”

“Such as?”

You turned to Malfoy who looked at you with raised eyebrows, curious to see where this would go. He really wasn’t going to say anything, you realized.

“Well, such as …,” you trailed off. “He has girlfriend.”

Boom.

The words were out. They simply tumbled over your tongue and when your brain caught up, it was too late.

Malfoys face went blank. He froze, still staring at you, probably wondering if he had simply imagined you saying this. (Oh how you wished this was true.)

“What?”, confusion was written all over Astorias face. “He –, what? Draco, what’s she talking about?” She turned to him.

The Slytherin didn’t react.

Well, too late to turn back now. “It’s true,” you slowly continued. “I’m his girlfriend.”

“What?”

“She’s what?”

“Girlfriend?”

More people chimed in and you saw how the rest of the Slytherins had turned their attention towards you. If Astorias eyes became any wider they’d probably fall out of her head, you thought to yourself. All of the sudden, her face changed. At first you thought she started crying by the way she looked away and her body started shaking. Then you realized that she wasn’t. She was laughing. Astoria shook her head, laughing loudly while the rest watched her awkwardly.

“Oh, this is adorable!”, she panted, tears from laughter in her eyes. “Does someone has a little crush on Draco?! Is this your attempt to get him to like you, Y/L/N? This is pathetic, it’s simply –”

“True,” finally Malfoy found his voice again and finished her sentence. “It’s true. She’s my girlfriend. We’re dating.” He looked at you and it was hard to tell what he was thinking.

“That explains a lot,” Zabini stated dryly.

You frowned, feeling like you missed the context there. However, Malfoy seemed to understand.

“But,” the little Greengrass had stopped laughing or smiling completely. “You’re a … Draco, she’s a Gryffindor. This is … what did you think …”

You knew what she was trying to refer to. It disgusted you. “Oh, don’t worry, I come from a pureblood family,” you said mockingly. “Besides, there are quite a few Ravenclaws and Slytherins among us so I’m not all blood traitor.”

“STUDENTS OUT OF BED!”

The conversation got harshly interrupted by a shrill scream. You flinched, the glass with firewhiskey falling to the ground and shattering. Then the music went out. Everyone turned to the door which was now widely open. Argus Filch stood in the middle of it, a small lamp in his hand and a crazed look in his eyes. He panted heavily, looking at the mayhem in front of him.

“STUDENTS OUT OF BED!”

Chaos broke loose. Glasses fell to the ground, people were screaming and running. Some apparated on the spot, some tried to get to the door. You belonged to the last group, trying to make your way past Filch. Teachers would probably show up any second now.

“This way,” someone grabbed you by the arm. Turning around, you saw it was Malfoy.

*** 

“Well, this feels familiar.”

The door behind you fell shut and you found yourself standing in complete darkness. Malfoy didn’t reply to you, instead he whispered “Lumos”, illuminating the small broom closet. You look around, wincing when you caught sight of a fat black spider sitting on one of the walls.

“Will you make room for me?”, the Slytherin hissed.

“I think I’ll pass,” you mumble, still staring at the spider.

Malfoy groaned and rudely shoved you aside. He sat down directly underneath it. You didn’t say anything.

“We’ll probably be here a while so you might as well sit down,” he grumbled.

Outside was still chaos. Students running around, teachers calling for order, Filch screaming nonsense, all accompanied by Peeves who was howling loudly. Yeah, you’d probably be here a while until it was safe to come out. Back in the Room of Requirement, Malfoy had grabbed you and pulled you towards a second door. It let you leave without anyone noticing. The two of you ran down the corridor and knowing that the house teachers would probably be waiting at the entrance of the common rooms, you decided to hide in the next best room for a while.

How ironic, you thought, remembering how you met Malfoy for the very first time this school year.

“Second door,” you began as you sat down across from him. “How did you know?”

He shrugged. “It’s the Room of Requirements.”

You tilted your head to the side. “I’ve never used the room before actually.”

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “Weren’t you part of Dumbledore’s Army?”

You shook your head. He looked surprised.

“Have you used it before?”

Draco nodded, looking to the ground. Then he suddenly changed the topic: “Why did you say that?”

“What do you mean?”

Of course you knew what he meant. However, you weren’t sure of how to answer. Why did you say you were his girlfriend?! Girlfriend. Draco Malfoys girlfriend. Just imagining it felt weird and strange to you. Never would you have thought you’d use this sentence to describe your current situation. But to be fair, you weren’t his real girlfriend.

“Y/L/N.”

He looked at you, awaiting your answer. What were you supposed to answer? You did it to save him from Astoria Greengrass? This was none of your concern. You did it to get back at Ron Weasley? Pathetic. Yet, no lie came to your mind that would make more sense.

So you decided to go with the truth. “I saw how miserable you were and –”

Malfoy rolled his eyes.

“– and I remembered you joking about the whole fake girlfriend in Potions.”

“Yes, Y/L/N, I was joking.” Merlin, he sounded annoyed.

To your surprise, he was much calmer though than you had expected. You thought he would be fuming, shouting at you, being insulted at the pure thought of (fake) dating a Gryffindor and maybe even mock you in front of his friends. However, you were wrong about him once again. Now that you were watching him like this, slumped back against the wall, he just looked tired – and a little annoyed, you had to admit. But was there also a hint of relief in his eyes or were you simply imagining it?

“What else?”, he suddenly asked.

You frowned, not understanding him.

“I know you Gryffindors have a savior complex but not even on of you would pretend to be dating someone like me purely for selfless reasons,” he said in a bitter voice. “Especially considering your circle of friends. So why else did you do it?”

Letting out a sigh, you shifted to a more comfortable position, stretching out your legs. You weren’t sure if you should tell him. Could you trust him? Probably not. Then again, as far as you knew he had kept all of your secrets. The rational part in your brain told you that it was a dumb idea. This would come back to bite you in the ass. Yet, the feeling in your gut said it was alright. Malfoy wasn’t as bad as you had imagined. And if he were to tell anything, you’d had enough leverage on him to make him regret it.

So once again, you decided to go with the truth. “Ron will flip out when he hears of it.”

Malfoy stared at you. Thank Merlin, the room was only dimly lit. It lowered his chance of seeing you blush.

“The Weasel?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “I mean … he hates you and he will hate us seeing together.”

“But he’s dating Granger. Or is that over?”

“No.”

“I don’t follow you, Y/L/N.”

You let out a soft sigh. “He admitted to having a crush on me. So there were feelings at some point. And we’ve been friends for years. So, there’s a part left that still cares for me and he absolutely can’t stand you, so … he’ll be mad.”

Confusion was written all over Malfoy’s face. “That’s a bit of a stretch, don’t you think?”

Maybe. You knew for a fact that your feelings were embarrassing and if your parents knew they’d give you an one hour lecture about how Ron doesn’t deserve any of your attention. Thank Merlin, they weren’t here.

“So you want him back?”, Malfoy guessed.

Your eyes widened and you shook your head almost violently, so strongly did you disagree. “Oh, fuck no.”

“So you want to get back at him.”

“Yup.” That was it.

The corners of his mouth began to twitch as if he was suppressing a grin. “That’s such a Slytherin thing to do.” Then he became more serious again. “And also – beneath you, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes at the all too familiar comment of his. Then you noticed something: “You just called me by my first name, Malfoy.”

“Don’t get used to it,” the Slytherin replied, casually running his hand through the white blond hair. “It’s just for practice.”

Astonished, you looked at him. “So that means we’re actually playing pretend for a few months?”

“Weeks,” he corrected you. “And yes. It’ll by me time to think of a more permanent solution.”

“Oh,” you nodded. “Okay then.” For some reason, you felt more excited about this than you expected to. Playing pretend with a Slytherin for a little. What could possibly go wrong?

Outside it became more and more quiet with each minute. The shouting had stopped and no more steps were heard. You listened intensely – but no. Nothing. Just as you were about to suggest going to your respective common rooms, Malfoy began to speak again: “You could have just given Astoria a lecture on her values and morals, y’know.”

“Marry for love, not for money?”

He nodded.

“And you think she would have listened to me?”, you questioned him.

He sighed. “Probably not.” Then he added: “You’re a Gryffindor, though.”

You snorted. “You’re awfully good at generalizing things, aren’t you?”

Malfoy shrugged. “I’m a Slytherin.”

You simply stared at the young man in front of you. “Right,” you cleared your throat when he didn’t notice what just happened. “No, I knew this wouldn’t have worked.”

“So you did this instead.”

“Yup.”

Malfoy let out a heavy breath of air. “Well, fuck me.”

“Was that an invitation, Malfoy?”, you smirked at him.

“You had to much too drink, Y/L/N.”

“Or not enough.”

He looked at you and a small chuckle escaped his lips. He moved his head to his side but it was too late – you had already seen him smiling. Not a smirk or one of those mocking smiles he had perfected – no, an authentic, real smile. The first one you’d seen on him in years. He was gorgeous, you thought. Obviously you had noticed his good looks before but never like this. Never in such an honest way. The sight was almost unreal to you and it made you smile back at him.

At that moment, you remembered who sat in front of you. Clearing your throat, you averted your eyes from him. “Anyways,” you changed the topic. “What does she even get out of it?”

“Astoria?”

“Mhh.”

Malfoy hesitated. “I guess, her and my mother are close.”

“My mother has close friends too but doesn’t make me marry their kids,” you remarked.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s not for social advantages, that’s for sure.” All of the happiness you had gotten a glance at a few moments prior, was gone with this sentence. A sick part of you thanked Merlin for it – this was the Malfoy you were used to. Getting to know him better would help neither of your families. Despite the whole fake-dating mess, this was probably the closest you would ever get to him. 

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

“You traditional purebloods are unbelievable,” you muttered. “I mean, maybe it’s just a crazy idea but I’d like talk to my partner before I ask them to marry me.”

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “Speaking of judging other people – how’s the Weasel in bed?”

Touché.

Just when you were about to shoot back – Malfoy lost it. He jumped up in a panic, frantically slapping himself, as he let out a high-pitched scream. You stared at him in shock, not knowing what was going on before you finally saw it: the spider.

The fat spider from earlier had made her way down to the talking Slytherin, curiously exploring his upper body. It was almost as big as the size of your hand and absolutely disgusting.

Malfoy tried desperately to get it off. However, like so many creatures in this castle, she had made up her mind and didn’t agree with him. So the spider clung to the fabric of his suit. He pushed the door open violently and ran into the hallway.

You got up to follow him but barely managed to get out of the door when you watched him: Draco Malfoy, former Death Eater, was jumping up and down in front of you, screaming like a ten-year-old girl. You burst into laughter, holding your stomach as tears shot into your eyes. Gasping for air, you were kneeling on the ground.

“Shut up and help me!” He barked at you angrily.

You weren’t able to.

Finally, after a few more seconds, he grabbed the thing and hurled her back into your direction. You shrieked and ducked. The spider landed on the stones, quickly disappearing into the darkness of the small closet.

Draco’s face had a close similarity with the color of a ripe tomato and when you looked at him, still on the ground, you couldn’t stop yourself from collapsing into laughter again. Tears were running down your cheeks as your voice echoed in the dark hall.

He watched you in anger but suddenly something changed – and he joined in. Not as strongly but he started laughing as well, leaning against the wall. It was so contagious and the situation so bizarre that the two of you remained like this for a few moments.

When both of you settled down, you wiped the tears away and stood up slowly. Malfoy didn’t look at you, he had his eyes focused on the window in front of him, the faint reminder of a smile still on his lips.

The air had shifted around you.

You swallowed hard and fiddled with the edge of your jacket. “I should probably go. It’s late.”

Draco rubbed a hand over his eyes and nodded. “Yes, probably.”

“Night, Malfoy.”

“Good night.”

Months would pass before Malfoy would admit to you, while drawing invisible patterns on the skin of your back, that this was the first time he had laughed – truly laughed – in almost two years.

*** 

The thoughts in your head ran wild as you stood in front of the small bathroom mirror. When you got back to the common room, almost no one was asleep. Everyone was talking about what had happened, wondering what the consequences would be. You managed to get to the bathroom unseen by Ginny or her friends, hiding in it.

Something had changed tonight and it bothered you that you didn’t understand what. It was this faint feeling; this moment you had shared with Malfoy. He fascinated you. Something about him kept pulling you in – every time you talked to him, he sparked your curiosity and left you wondering about his life.

It was a simple realization that hit you when you looked at yourself in the mirror: in another life, you could have been friends.

Another life, another planet, another universe with other friends, other houses, other families.  
Not in this life though. He was too much trouble. As much as you felt the strong desire to get to know him better, he was not worth it. This year was too important for you – your future plans didn’t deserve to get tainted by you hanging out with a former Death Eater.

You leaned down to splash cold water in your face. Little did you know that across the castle, Draco Malfoy sat on his bed, staring at the dark water of the sea, having almost the same confusing thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments are so sweet and they really mean the world to me!! <3 Thank you so so much!!


	7. Lies

“Y/N, wake up!”

You groaned when someone grabbed you by the shoulders.

“Wake up!”

“No,” you mumbled sleepily and tried to turn around. It was way too early for this.

“Come, wake up, we’re missing breakfast!”

Slowly you opened your eyes. Ginny sat in front of your bed, a stressed look on her face.

You groaned a second time before propping yourself up on your elbows. “What time is it?”

“Too late,” she replied. You noticed that she was already fully dressed and ready to go. “McGonagall announced last night that everyone from grade six and seven who misses breakfast will get detention.”

“What?” Now this just confused you. “Detention? For what?”, you asked and yawned. „For missing breakfast?“

She nodded and pulled away your blankets, ignoring your sounds of protest. “Yes, for the party last night. Now, come on!”

The party. Malfoy. Oh, for a brief moment you forgot about what happened there.

Suddenly you were wide awake and got up in a swift motion. Ginny, who must have thought that you really didn’t want to get detention, looked relieved though that you finally started to move. Hastily, you walked to the bathroom, grabbing some clothes on the way.

While getting ready, memories of last night came flooding back to you. The talk with Astoria, fleeing from Filch, hiding in that broom closet … and the spider. You chuckled softly when you remembered how Malfoy jumped up and down while trying to get the animal off of him. Then your smile froze – you were his fake girlfriend now. Merlin, that sounded ridiculous; like straight out of some cheesy muggle romance novel. And the more you thought about this the more nervous you became. All sorts of questions raced through your head: How were you supposed to act? Was he going to acknowledge it today? Did he even still want to do it? Did people know?

The last questions got answered when you walked (or more precisely: ran) down to the Great Hall with Ginny. If someone in Gryffindor knew than she would have be aware as well – and if that were the case, she wouldn’t care about detention or anything else. No, she would pepper you with questions. However, some of the Slytherins had overheard your conversation with Greengrass and Malfoy last night. So you guessed that it wouldn’t take long before it would come out.

You were among the last students who arrived at the Great Hall, barely managing to take a seat at the end of the house table before the big door fell shut behind you. There was no food yet, everyone was sitting silently, looking at the teachers.

The teachers looked … pissed. There was truly no other way to describe it. You could imagine how much homework you would receive in the next week simply by the way they glared at the students in front of them.

“I don’t know what the big deal is,” Seamus whispered from a few seats away, “it’s not like this is the first party that went down in Hogwarts.”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded. “And nothing even happened!”

Then Headmistress McGonagall got up from her seat and slowly walked around the table. She had a stern look on her face. Before she began to speak, she cleared her throat. “I will make this announcement short but make no mistake: all of us are deeply, deeply disappointment by the behavior of the sixth and seventh graders last night. I am aware that this isn’t the first time something similar happens in Hogwarts.”

As if she had heard Seamus and Dean talking before, she let her eyes linger a short moment on them.

“You are young, you are far away from your parents and you want to celebrate life. You have every right to do so. Do not think that we haven’t been aware of your little get togethers at the beginning of this school year. The past years have been trying times for all of us so we, the teachers, collectively decided to look away as we were certain it wouldn’t go on for very long. But as Headmistress, I am responsible for my students well-being. I promised your parents to take care of you and after everything … after everything we endured, I understand that there’s nothing more important for them. Not only from dangers arriving from magic but from dangers arriving from your classmates,” she paused. “Most of you who attended the party last night are old enough to drink. The younger students, especially the second and third graders, are not.” 

Ginny and you shared looks of confusion. Who was dumb enough to do that? And why hadn’t you noticed it.

“That’s what’s the big deal is,” Seamus mumbled.

“We will not tolerate alcohol on school grounds and we will much less tolerate you giving it to your younger classmates,” her voice got even sharper. “We have not caught everyone who attended. However, as a punishment, we will set back all of the House Points to zero and cancel all Quidditch games until January.”

The students began to murmur, disappointment and anger was seen among them. McGonagall raised her hands and it got quiet again.

“Now, enjoy your breakfast.” She turned around and with that, food appeared on your tables.

“That sucks,” you said to Ginny and reached for a croissant. This was the first and last year at Hogwarts that you got the chance to play for the Quidditch team. It annoyed you that you were now forced to miss out on games.

“I know,” she rolled her eyes. “Who’s dumb enough to bring twelve year olds to this?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. They probably just heard it from someone and snug in.” 

There didn’t seem to be any other topics than last night or the canceled Quidditch games among the students for the rest of the breakfast – for the ones who were able to eat, anyways. More than one student stumbled out of the Great Hall with wide eyes and a pressed together mouth, accompanied by the hooting of their friends and the judging looks of the teachers. Ginny and you tried to find any upsides to the canceled games. For you it was quite clear – more time for practice. But she dreamt of joining the Holyhead Harpies which made this even more disappointing for her.

You felt tense throughout the whole breakfast; your eyes constantly wandering over to the Slytherin table, looking for Malfoy. Spotting him, you realized he literally couldn’t sit farther away from you. He looked down at his plate, not noticing you. Astoria was next to him, talking. It confused you as you had expected her being still mad. Unless they made up already. But why would he do that after your talk in the broom closet?

You didn’t even notice that you were staring until Zabini, who sat on his other side, nudged him with his elbow, nodding in your direction. Malfoy raised his head, locking eyes with you immediately. You didn’t break eye contact, trying to figure out what he was going to do.

He smirked.

It threw you off completely. You blinked a few times and then it clicked in your head: he played his role. He still wanted to do it and Astoria sitting next to him meant nothing. Well, if he was committed, so were you. You sent him a soft smile back. Malfoy winked at you and then turned to Zabini to say something.

You chuckled to yourself, amused by that bizarre moment. When you turned back to Ginny, she was in a serious argument with Dean about the Holyhead Harpies. More chipper than before, you joined in.

*** 

Malfoy and you didn’t cross paths again until lunch. 

After a particularly boring History of Magic lesson, everyone was quick to grab their books and hurry out of the small classroom. You were one of the last students in the room and were surprised when you saw Malfoy leaning against the door frame, watching you pack your bag. He was waiting for you.

“Thanks for waiting,” you said when you were done and approached him.

“I heard that’s what boyfriends do for their girlfriend,” he replied when the two of you started to make your way down to the Great Hall.

“Does this sound as weird to you as it does to me?!”, you snorted. “Refering to us as a …”

“… a couple?”, Malfoy finished your sentence when you trailed off. He nodded. “Obviously. You’re a Gryffindor.”

“As long as that’s your only concern, Slytherin.”

He shrugged. “At least you’re a pureblood.”

You glanced at him from the side, frowning.

He noticed it. “I’m joking, Y/L/N.”

You relaxed a little and said with an ironic undertone: “How am I supposed to know? You’re a Slytherin.”

He chuckled. “True. You can never be sure when it comes to us.”

Wondering, how close this statement was to the truth, you stayed quiet. There weren’t many students that the two of you passed on the way downstairs. The ones that saw you however, looked at you with curiousity. We must look like an odd pair, you thought. After all, house rivalry was despite all the efforts of the teachers still very much a thing in Hogwarts. It had gotten better yes, especially among the younger students. But between two seventh graders? Between a Gryffindor and Draco Malfoy? He was the last one people thought of when the topic revolved around interhouse friendships. You were relieved though that none of them were your friends as you were not quite prepared yet for them to see you with him. You wanted to enjoy the last moments of peace before you would enter the Great Hall.

“What do you think about the whole Quidditch situation?”, you asked after a while, remembering that he used to play. “Are you playing this year?”

He shook his head. “No.”

You had expected that to be honest. “So you’re not disappointed?”

“Not really.”

It must had looked to him as if you were simply trying to make small-talk. This bothered you. You wanted to make him understand that you were generally interested in his life. Not that it was required for your whole charade but you figured that if you were forced to spend time together you might as well make it enjoyable. Besides, the fascination for him didn’t seem to be fading any time soon.

You heard how Malfoy let out a sharp breath. One more pair of stairs and the Great Hall would be right there in front of you. The voices of students and clinging of cutlery and glasses could be heard all the way up to here.

This was it.

“May I take your hand?”

What?

Confused, you looked at Malfoy. 

He repeated his question. A lot slower this time, as if he was speaking to you in a foreign language: “May I … take … your hand?” After a brief pause, he added: “It’ll look more convincing.”

It was such a simple thing to do and still you kept thinking of the last time you had touched him: on your first meeting in the broom closet. This was different, you remembered. He played a role now – both of you were – and he was surprisingly good at it.

Before you could overthink this, you took a deep breath and reached for him. Hand in hand, you walked into the Great Hall.

*** 

It was quiet in the common room. Most of the students either still had classes or spent their day roaming around Hogwarts. The fire was already cackling as it began to grow darker outside. Autumn was over and Winter almost here. Everyone felt it.

You sat on one of the couches, now in more comfortable clothes. (Getting out of the school uniform after a long day was the best feeling ever.) Ginny and Hermione were across from you. As the Weasley girl was staring into the fire, processing everything you just told her, Hermione fiddled with her quill. Her homework laid unfinished in front of her.  
The lunch had gone considerably well. When you walked in, you felt as if everyone was staring at you. All of your friends were for sure. Ginnys smile froze and Hermiones eyes widened when they saw the way you were holding hands. You were expecting them to run up to you or say something but they remained in their seats. No, they watched you as you awkwardly said goodbye to Malfoy. You weren’t sure of what the appropriate thing to do was. Kiss? Merlin, no. Hug? What were you – twelve? So he simply squeezed your hand and smiled at you before going over to his friends. You could tell the smile was forced. The situation was still feeling strange to the both of you. When you sat down, the two girls remained quiet, staring at you in complete disbelief. Then – after what felt like an eternity – Ginny stood up abruptly, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you along with her. Hermione followed.

Up here in the common room, you told your story carefully but leaving out almost all of the important details. No matter how much they meant to you, they couldn’t know that the relationship was not real. It pained you to lie to them. It’s not for long, you kept on telling yourself. In a few months, all of you will laugh about it together.

“Why though?”, Ginny finally looked at you. “It’s fucking Malfoy.”

“I just told you,” you raised your hands in a defensive manner.

“No, you told us how this whole … how it happened,” she corrected you. “You didn’t explain why.”

You were dumbfounded, realizing that you should’ve thought about this. After all, you needed to pretend that you were actually in love with him. Or at least, crushing on him. “He’s not that bad,” you finally said.

Ginny raised her eyebrows. “Sounds like true love to me.”

“We’re just dating.”

“Just dating,” she mimicked you and rolled her eyes.

You sighed. “Come one, Ginny.”

You had expected them to be mad. Dating a Slytherin would have been reason enough for your friends to have a serious talk with them. You weren’t just dating any Slytherin though – you were dating the one they hated most. Considering all of this was built on a lie, you felt even more guilty for upsetting them.

“I don’t get it either, Y/N”, Hermiones voice was unusually cold as she still played with the quill in her hand.

“I’m not surprised.”

She raised her head, sending you a sharp look. “It doesn’t make sense. You never liked him before.”

You shrugged. “I never talked to him before.”

“You saw how he talked to us though, right?”, Ginny reminded you and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

Hermione nodded. “All the name calling, the bullying, you can’t just overlook that,” she shook her head in disbelief. “You do remember how he treated us, don’t you? Your friends?”

It was a painful and unnecessary reminder and it caused you to rub with one hand over your eyes. “Yes, of course.”

“There are really no excuses for his behavior,” Ginny continued.

They were right. Malfoy had been a bully and an asshole with his whole pureblood-bullshit. Two months ago, you would have even agreed with your friends that he still was all that. However, something had changed inside of you and you felt weirdly defensive even though it was all a lie anyways.

You took your time with an answer.

“He was a shitty person before the war. I admit that,” you finally began, choosing your next words very carefully. “He treated you like crap and believe me, if I still thought that he’s that same person today, I wouldn’t be doing this.” This was the truth. You leaned forward a little. “Please, trust me. I don’t want to hurt you or lose you because of … him.” Again, the truth.

Hermione and Ginny looked at each other. To your relief, their expressions softened when they turned back to you.

“We know, we know,” Hermione smiled at you. “But still –”

“He’s a Death Eater, Y/N,” Ginny suddenly interrupted. “Don’t you want to be an Auror? I don’t think messing around with a Death Eater will help you with your goals!”

“Was.”

“What?”

“He was a Death Eater,” you corrected her.

She frowned. “How’s that any better?”

“I don’t think he wanted to be one,” you explained.

“You don’t think?”, she scoffed. “Well, that’s reassuring.”

“I actually agree with Y/N, Ginny,” Hermione chimed in, staring into the fire.

You were thankful for her support but then remembered that she had actually seen him once during the war. She never spoke about this day but the faint scars on her wrist told you everything you needed to know. You shifted uncomfortably. 

When Hermione looked back at you, her face was serious. “Which doesn’t mean I approve of this. I don’t believe this will end well for either of you.”

Ginny nodded eagerly. “He’ll treat you like shit because that’s what he does.”

You watched your friends carefully. Then you made a decision that would maybe end this whole game right then and there. However, you felt it was the right one: “I do believe there’s more to him and I’d like to give him a second chance. But I know what he and his family did and I don’t want to hurt your feelings,” you paused for a second. “You mean too much to me and if this really bothers you … then I’ll end it.”

Both of them seemed surprised by your words and exchanged long looks. Finally, Hermione sighed and leaned back against the cushion. “Alright.”

Ginny rolled her eyes one more time. “This will end in flames, I’m telling you. I might as well start preparing for the inevitable heartbreak that ferret will cause you,” she predicted and continued with narrow eyes: “I swear to god, if this idiot hurts you, I’ll kill him.”

You chuckled, more relaxed know. “I know. I think he knows too.”

Ginny didn’t return the smile. “And one more thing – I consider you my family, Y/N, but if you … if you start acting like your sister now, I won’t be here for you. There are lines you should never ever cross.”

This took you off guard. “Do you really think I’d do that?”, you stammered.

“No”, the Ginger shook her head. “But you never know with Slytherins and their mindgames.”

You didn’t reply. The accusation echoed in your mind and you felt the sudden urge to get up and leave.

Hermione seemed to have sensed the question as she looked back and forth between the two of you. “You still haven’t answered Ginnys question,” she tried to change the topic.

“Which one?”, you tilted your head.

“Why Malfoy?”

Oh. That question. You still hadn’t thought of a better answer. “Why …?”

“Why you’re in love with him, stupid,” Ginny said and shifted into a more comfortable position. Her voice sounded calmer now and she even smiled at you. “Do we have to call him Draco now? Or do you already have nicknames for eachother? What do you call him? Dray?” Ginny giggled at her last question; you and Hermione joined in.

“Right, that’s my cue to leave,” you grinned at her.

“Oh don’t go, we want to know more!”, Hermione exclaimed. “The serious part is over, we promise!”

You got up from the couch. “Yeah, right.”

“Come on, Y/N. I want to hear more about Dray-dray.” Both of the girls started laughing before Ginny had even finished her sentence. You chuckled to yourself and then made a very explicit gesture, explaining what you thought of that name. It caused them to laugh even harder.

You felt glad at how well this talk went in the end. It could’ve been a lot worse. Although now that it was over, guilt began to creep inside of you. There was hardly anything in this world that you hated more than lying. Yes, you never told Hermione about what happened with Ron during the summer and this had caused you a lot of sleepless nights already, leaving you feeling like a bad friend. Now you did it to Ginny as well. Gritting your teeth, you prayed to all the muggle gods there were, that it was worth it.

When you reached the staircase that led up to the dorms, the girls had calmed down a little. It was then when you heard Ginny say: “I bet he still has that mark on his arm.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your support, it means a lot!! <33


	8. Slytherins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR SUPPORT AND FEEDBACK!!! It means the world, they always make my day!! <33 Thank you so so so so much, loves!!

_That same night …_

“That’s bad for your eyes, y’know. Writing without light.”

“We have magic to fix his eyes, Blaise.”

Draco quickly closed the notebook when he heard the familiar voices. His two best friends, Theo and Blaise, stood next to him. He hadn’t heard them approaching. Blaise rolled his eyes when he saw his sudden motion. “Don’t worry, we didn’t see anything.”

“You better not,” Draco grumbled and put the book away.

Once again, he sat on the bleachers by the Quidditch field, enjoying the stillness around him. Hardly anyone was here, now that the days had slowly turned colder. The trees had lost their leaves by now, making them look like giant skeletons in the distance. An icy wind blew over the field. Draco didn’t mind it though; his green Slytherin scarf and a pair of gloves helped him stay warm just fine.

He wasn’t expecting Blaise and Theo – or anyone at all – to come up here tonight and to be completely honest, it bothered him a little. If he wanted to talk to someone, he’d stay in the common room. However, he guessed why they were here.

“So,” Blaise began as if he read his mind. He sat down next to him while Theo leaned against the barricade in front of Draco. “We were looking for you.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I didn’t want to be found?”, Draco asked dryly.

“Yes, but since when do we care about such minor details?”, Theo retorted with a grin.

Draco sighed theatrically and leaned back against his seat. “So spit it out already, I know why you’re here anyways.”

Blaise lifted an eyebrow. “Is it true then? You and the Gryffindor?”

“You heard her last night and you saw us today,” Draco answered while not looking at either of them.

Blaise waited for him to continue. When it didn’t happen, he asked: “How did that happen?”

Draco shrugged. “We ran into each other a few times.”

“That’s no explanation,” Theo snorted. “I run into McGonagall all the time and yet I’m not dating her.” This caused Blaise and Draco to look at him in confusion.

“Why are you running into McGonagall all the time?”, Blaise tilted his head.

“I don’t know,” Theo said. “She’s always there when I go somewhere.”

Draco shook his head. “That’s fucking weird.”

“It is,” Blaise agreed. “Maybe she’s stalking you.”

“Or he’s stalking her,” the white-haired Slytherin added with a grin which caused Blaise to laugh.

Theo rolled his eyes. “Oh fuck off and don’t change the subject.”

This caused Blaise to stop laughing as if he suddenly remembered why they were here. “He’s right, Draco. Don’t change the subject.” He cleared his throat. “How did that happen?”

Draco wondered how much he could tell his friends. On the one side, he trusted them. However, they were also way too talkative. No, if worst came to worst, Astoria would hear about this dumb plan of his and then all hell would break loose. Besides, if they didn’t tell anyone, he would be subject to relentless teasing for the rest of his life. So Draco decided to keep it vague.

“You remember at the beginning of the school year when all those parties took place?”

They nodded.

“Well, we accidently hid in the same storage room from our dates,” he continued. “That’s when we met. And then I guess, we just kept running into each other.” Draco hoped that they would be content with his answer. He was wrong.

“Still doesn’t make any sense,” Blaise concluded and glanced at Theo who looked equally irritated by the story.

“Did you …”, Theo began suddenly but trailed off.

“Did I what?”, Draco demanded to know with furrowed brows.

“Y’know, in the storage room …”, his friend made a very explicit gesture with his hands, causing Blaise to snort.

“No, my last name isn’t Zabini,” Draco said dryly.

Blaise didn’t take any offense in this and just chuckled.

Before Draco was able to stop himself, he added: “We made out though.”

Theo looked surprised.

“Hm, nice,” Blaise nodded. “Is she any good?”

Draco sent him a suggestive look and both of them started grinning.

“And now you’re dating?”, Theo interrupted them.

Draco sighed. “Yes.”

Once again, both of his friends exchanged confused looks. To them, it didn’t make any sense. This wasn’t the Draco Malfoy they grew up with. No, the Draco Malfoy they’d known their entire lives wouldn’t even think about touching a Gryffindor except for pushing them off their broomsticks during a Quidditch game.

„Please excuse us not getting any of this,” Blaise finally continued. “Let’s start with the obvious – she’s a Gryffindor.”

“Please, don’t remind me of that,” Draco retorted and pretended to shudder in disgust. The motion made his friends chuckle.

“She’s friends with your bestie.” When Theo saw that Draco didn’t know who he meant, he added: “Potter.”

“Merlin, don’t remind me of that either.”

Theo frowned now. “She’s also a Blood Traitor per definition.”

“Didn’t we leave that behind?”, Blaise asked him.

Theo gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “Officially.”

“Hmm,” Blaise made. “But you’re wrong anyways. Haven’t you heard of her sister?”

Now it was Draco’s turn to frown. What was he talking about? Her sister? He wasn’t even aware that she had one. “What do you mean?”

“Alissa Y/L/N?”, Blaise asked as if this was supposed to ring a bell. Then he added: “The cleansing in Edinburgh?”

“Wait, what?!”, Draco leaned forward.

“That’s her sister?”, Theo exclaimed at the same time.

“How do you not know that?!”, Blaise questioned, not believing that this was truly news to them. “Especially you, Draco!”

“I was a little preoccupied to care about gossip back then, Blaise,” Draco hissed immediately. Then he leaned back again, letting out a long breath of air. “Fuck me.”

Blaise nodded, a serious expression on his face. “Yeah, I had the same reaction. And imagine, she was a Ravenclaw back in Hogwarts.”

Draco couldn’t believe it. “How do you know that?”, he wanted to know.

“My mother. She knows people,” Blaise said simply. “And I thought everyone knew; the Death Eaters talked about it for weeks.”

It was as if pieces of a puzzle came finally came together for Draco. He remembered your vague suggestions when you met up here on the bleachers. For him, this was also the explanation for your sudden interest in his life. Did you actually understand him? Or at least a part of him? You grew up in another world and yet, you must’ve had a glimpse at his world already. Like looking through a window, you came into contact with a life similar to his before. Was this the reason he felt … so calm around you?

“I guess only half of her family are Blood Traitors then,” Theos voice pulled him back into reality. The comment was nonetheless distasteful after the information they just heard. Theo sensed this when he saw Dracos face and quickly continued: “Per definition.”

Blaise raised his hand before Theo could talk anymore and tried to change the subject back instead: “More importantly, like I already said, she’s a Gryffindor. You hate Gryffindors, Draco.”

Still a little agitated by what he just learned, Draco mumbled: “I don’t hate her.”

“Clearly,” Blaise assured him. “But why?”

Slowly, Draco began to feel annoyed. He had expected his friends to ask him questions about you. Didn’t mean he was any less bothered by it. “What do you want me to say here?!” Draco raised his hands. “It’s none of your fucking business.”

“Is she good in bed?”, Theo asked innocently to which Draco shot him an angry look. “Okay, okay,” his friend smirked. “Would have been an explanation at least.”

“Is this about Astoria?”

The question came from Blaise and it made Draco freeze. “What?”, he snapped.

There was a smug look on Blaise’s face when he realized he was onto something here. “You know what I mean. Is this about her?”

“No.”

“Are you trying to run away from the engagement?”, he pondered.

“Merlin, Zabini. I’m not running from anything,” Draco shot back at him, way too angry for his liking. “And as long as I’m not engaged, I can be with whoever I want.”

“Yes,” Blaise nodded in agreement. “So why choose Y/L/N?”

“She’s smart, she’s kind, she’s hot, being around her makes me feel good. Happy?!” Draco was surprised over his own words. They simply came out; he didn’t have to think about them – and yet, they were true.

He enjoyed being around you. When he decided to wait for you after class today, he thought he’d be bothered by it, but then … he wasn’t. When he had held your hand, it didn’t even compare to the feeling he got when Astoria touched him. With her, he felt the need to flinch or to take a step back and with you … it was so different. Draco realized now with terror that the feeling he had gotten when he had to let go of you was disappointment.

Theo and Blaise stared at him as if they were trying to read his minds. He suddenly got scared that they sensed the confusion inside of him.

“All that can be said about Astoria as well,” Theo said softly then.

Draco had to leave now. All this talk made him think about things, he didn’t like. “Are you done with your interrogation?”

They weren’t. “You don’t want to be with Astoria, am I right?”, Blaise guessed.

“I’m leaving now,” Draco got up but so did his friend.

Blaise raised his hand as if he wanted to stop them and continued with his theory, talking faster now. “You’re looking for a way to get out of it and you found a girl to date. It would give you time to postpone it without upsetting your parents too much. After all, she’s a pureblood and comes from a more or less reputable family.”

_Fuck._

“This is ridiculous,” Draco sneered. “Stop hooking up with Hufflepuff girls, Zabini, it’s dumbing you down.”

He didn’t listen. “I know you and you wouldn’t be the first to do this.”

“I’m done here,” Draco started walking towards the stairs. “See you later.”

“You don’t have to lie to us, Draco. We are your friends,” Blaise called out.

Draco had already reached the stairs but when he heard this, he quickly turned around, glaring at his friend. “I’m not lying, I’m simply not gonna listen to your pathetic attempts of trying to get me to confess something so that you can find a reason to go back to my future fiancée and _comfort_ her.”

With that, he left, not looking back once. Behind him, he could hear Theo laughing at the implied accusation and Blaise replying with some sort of sarcastic comment.

***

The Slytherin common room was filled with students. They were sitting on the couches and tables, playing games, laughing, working on their assignments. Draco didn’t glance at any of them when he walked in. He headed straight for his room, with a firm step and a look on his face that made it clear to any of his classmates to better not approach him right now.

“Draco, can we talk?”

Of course. Someone still had to ignore his wishes. Astoria got up from one of the couches where she was talking to her sister and Pansy, and followed him to the stairs which were leading to the boy’s rooms. She was still wearing her uniform and Draco guessed that she had waited down here to catch him when got back.

“Not now,” Draco said shortly.

“Please, just a second,” she pleaded and looked at him with here big doe eyes.

Draco sighed and stopped on the first step. “What is it?”

She looked hurt by his tone of voice but when she spoke, her voice was still soft. “Can I come up with you to talk?”

Draco shook his head. “I’m really not in the mood to talk, Astoria.”

Suddenly, her expression changed. As if that sentence triggered something inside of her, she crossed her arms in front of her chest, eyes narrowing. “I don’t understand what’s going on with you,” she said in low voice to avoid making a scene in front of everyone.

“We talked about that yesterday,” Draco replied, trying to stay calm.

“Thanks for the reminder, Malfoy,” she scoffed. “We haven’t finished that talk though because _someone_ interrupted us. I still want to know why you’re acting up since school started. I deserve better than your constant cold remarks. I won’t let you treat me that way!”

Maybe she deserved better, Draco thought. However, her needs weren’t exactly high on his lists of priorities right now. He didn’t treat her any different than before anyways. She had never been his friend, the only reason why she was suddenly in their circle of friends was because of her sister. And, well, the engagement that was bound to happen eventually.

“How am I treating you, Astoria?”, Draco wanted to know.

“Getting into a relationship with that Gryffindor –”, Astoria began.

“… is absolutely none of your business,” Draco cut her off.

“Yes, it is!”, she suddenly exclaimed. Two students who sat nearby turned their heads, watching the scene with curiosity. “We are supposed to be engaged by now!”

“But we’re not.”

“Because you keep acting like a crybaby!” More students turned their head now. “All that sulking around, your stupid diary, and those sad looks. I can’t stand it!” Astoria spat out, her cheeks turning red with anger. “Where’s the Draco we used to loved?”

The Slytherin stared at her for a few moments. Yes, where is that Draco? He’d like to have him back as well because the Draco she was talking about didn’t care about anything. All he wanted was to prank stupid Potter, graduate and make his parents proud.

“He grew tired of you.”

It was barely a whisper but Astoria heard him. She gasped and Draco could only imagine how hurt she was right now. It didn’t stop him from continuing: “You know, Astoria, maybe instead of looking for a husband at age _eighteen_ , you should start focusing on school. Because all this,” he pointed at the common room, “it means nothing. Nothing at all. Everything we were taught to believe doesn’t mean anything. _We_ don’t mean anything.” Draco turned around without waiting for a reply, leaving the young woman behind him.

“I will tell your parents about this and maybe your father will beat some sense into it!” He heard Astoria shriek downstairs.

“Good luck trying to reach him in Azkaban,” was Draco’s bitter reply.

He practically slammed open the door to his room and threw his bag next to his bed. He was thankful that Theo and Blaise weren’t back yet. His head felt like it was going to explode any second now as he walked up and down, breathing heavily. He didn’t know where to start; it was too much of mess. The story about your sister which left him with nothing but confusion and – egoistically – relief. You weren’t so different after all, were you? Did you understand him? Why was this so important to him? Why did even _care_ about what you thought or how you felt? He barely knew you at all. He just knew how you made him feel and a part of him _hated_ you for it. He wasn’t supposed to … Suddenly Draco stopped dead in his tracks. He stared out of the window and into the green water of the lake.

He wasn’t supposed to think about you. You were a Gryffindor. His parents taught him who was appropriate for him to be around. You certainly weren’t at the top of the list. You were friends with muggleborns, hell, probably even muggles, and blood traitors and everyone he should stay away from. But what did he say to Astoria?

_It doesn’t mean anything._

None of it did. Maybe this was the problem, the reason he felt the way he did. He thought about it before but never said it out loud – and this was all it took for some reason. The realization washed over him like wave. Everything his parents taught him was wrong. All those values and rules, his whole world was _wrong._ They had lost the war. They raised him to believe he was different; he was worth more than the others. _Why_? They wouldn’t have lost if it meant anything, right? The world would be different if what his parents had taught him wasn’t just pretentious bullshit.

Draco suddenly leaned forwards and hit, as hard as he could, his hand on the surface of the table. A bottle of ink fell down and shattered.

“Fuck,” he cursed and dropped to his knees. He tried picking up the pieces of glass with his hands and groaned when he cut himself. It was a deep slash in the palm of his hand and immediately blood began to drop onto the cold stones.

It hurt. Draco didn’t mean the cut by that, no, he thought about his parents. Why did they do that to him? Why send him off into the world with false hopes and promises, only to leave him alone? His father in Azkaban, his mother only a shadow of herself in that giant mansion. He was left to carry the burden of his family. _How could they?_

Draco shuddered and the thought made him choke for a second. He gasped for air and then – a single tear ran down his cheeks. His breathing was irregular as he sat down on the ground, staring at the cut in the palm of his hand.

He sat like this for what felt like hours before the door swung open. Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini stood there, looking at Draco in shock. Then, slowly, as if they had seen nothing, the two young men took a step back and closed the door.

Draco was alone again.

***

You woke up the next morning, feeling rested and well. This was the best sleep you had in weeks. As you walked over to the bathroom, you saw that it had begun to snow outside. You almost squealed in excitement. It was still early in November. But now as you were looking outside and seeing the sun shine onto the thin white blanket of snow that covered Hogwarts, you couldn’t wait for the day to start.

It was a Saturday and the first Hogsmeade weekend this year. You had almost forgotten about it but then managed to sneak a message with the help of Zabini towards Malfoy. What better opportunity to show everyone that you were (fake-)dating than going to Hogsmeade together? Besides, you were still waiting for Ron’s reaction. You hadn’t seen him all day yesterday but were convinced that he already knew. He had to. Even if he didn’t saw you at lunch, Hermione or Ginny probably told him already. You were weirdly excited for him to find out and were sure that he’d probably go to Hogsmeade as well.

You worried if Malfoy had gotten your message when you didn’t see him at breakfast. “ _Meet me at ten at the main entrance. We’re going to Hogsmeade together,”_ you had written on a tiny piece of paper. He didn’t answer you. He couldn’t answer though, you remembered. How was he supposed to get the message to the Gryffindor rooms? But maybe Zabini just threw the paper away after you handed it to him? You wouldn’t be surprised to be honest.

Ten o’clock you stood near the main gate, waiting for the Slytherin. Despite the sun shining onto your skin, it was cold. You were thankful for the scarf and gloves and impatiently shifted from one leg to another, trying to warm up. Students who were already leaving for Hogsmeade in pairs passed you by and you tried to catch sight of the familiar blonde hair in the middle of the crowd. No luck.

Five Minutes passed. Then ten minutes. You were just about to leave when fifteen minutes had passed but then you saw him. With his hands in the pocket of his long black coat, he made his way towards you.

“And I here I thought you stood me up,” you commented when he had reached you. “Merlin, you look like shit!”, you suddenly exclaimed when you got a closer look of his face. He was even paler than usual, deep black circles under his eyes. He shivered and looked as if he was sick.

“Thank you,” Malfoy said with a sarcastic undertone. “Let’s go?” Without waiting for an answer, he started walking towards the direction of Hogsmeade. He took long strides and you had to hurry to keep up with him.

“Are you okay?”, you felt stupid for asking. He obviously wasn’t doing alright.

To no surprise, Malfoy nodded. “I’m fine. I just overslept.”

You didn’t believe him, seeing how stiff he moved and how his thoughts were obviously elsewhere. You walked together in silence for the whole way. Occasionally, you glanced at him, not sure of what to do. When you finally reached the small village, the answer was clear to you:

“Let’s have a butterbeer.” Before he could protest, you reached for his arm and pulled him into the Three Broomsticks.

Inside it was warm and loud. You took off your scarf and gloves and moved your fingers to warm them up a little. There were already a few students here, taking sips from their hot drinks, enjoying a second breakfast with the few sweets the pub provided.

“Two butterbeers,” you said over the counter to the woman working here.

“I don’t want anything,” Malfoy suddenly chimed in.

You tilted your head. “Why not?”

He didn’t meet your eyes, staring at the counter.

“I can see you’re cold so you’re having a butterbeer,” you insisted with a smile.

“No, I really don’t want anything,” Malfoy said with a sharp voice.

You frowned.

“I …,” he sighed. “I forgot my money.” He still didn’t look at you.

Oh.

“No worries,” you slapped your hands on the table. “I’ll cover you. Two butterbeers, please.”

Malfoy finally lifted his head and turned to you. The embarrassment in his eyes was as clear as day. “Y/L/N –”

“I insist!”, you interrupted him. Luckily, the woman brought your beers in just this second. You each grabbed one and walked over to a table by the window. Getting out of your coats, you sat down.

“I love butterbeer,” you mumbled after you took a sip. “Hogwarts should serve it more often.”

“It wouldn’t be special to you then,” Malfoy replied.

“Maybe,” you shrugged.

When Malfoy lifted his mug to take another sip, your eyes fell onto his hand. A loosely tied bandage was wrapped around it.

“What happened with your hand?”, you asked with worry.

“Nothing, stupid accident,” Malfoy put the mug back down. Once again, you didn’t believe him.

“Why didn’t you go to Madame Pomfrey?”, you didn’t let go of the topic.

“It’s nothing.”

You sighed, leaning back against your chair. “Malfoy, what is up with you?”

“Nothing.”

Well, that seemed to be his favorite word today.

“How did you get the letter in?”, he quickly changed the subject.

You stared at him through narrowed eyes, seeing through this attempt. Something happened yesterday. You were sure of it. “Zabini,” you finally answered his question. “It was really awkward. I practically lingered in front of your house entrance and waited until someone familiar came my way.”

A faint smirk appeared on Malfoys face. You were relieved to see it.

“I thought he gave it to you?”

“He must’ve come in when I was asleep,” Malfoy explained. “I saw it this morning on my nightstand.”

“That explains why you were late.”

He nodded.

“How did they react?”, you finally asked. You were curious about the Slytherins and expected anything: from them kicking Malfoy out of the house to not caring at all. “Your friends? Greengrass?”

Malfoy took some time to answer. He stared into his mug and you wondered if this had something to do with his odd behavior. “They asked me a bunch of questions and that was it.” After a brief pause, he added: “Astoria was pissed. As I expected her to be.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “Same with my friends. They didn’t understand it.”

“How could they? I don’t even get it,” he shook his head. “Playing pretend with a Gryffindor.”

“Stop saying the name of my house like it’s a disease.”

“It isn’t?”, Malfoy looked at you with surprise.

You snorted. “I could do the same with your house.”

“No, not really,” he shrugged. “My house is the greatest.” And there it finally was – that Malfoy smirk, that made the knees of dozens of girls at Hogwarts go weak.

“Right, Malfoy,” you winked at him. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“Now, to the more important questions,” Malfoy continued. “How did the Weasel react?”

You took another sip of your drink. “Don’t know yet. Haven’t seen him all day yesterday.”

“Interesting.” He leaned back against the chair and you saw how he started to relax more. “We might see his reaction today then. That’ll be fun.”

“Oh yes,” you agree and nod eagerly. “He’ll be fuming.”

Malfoy watched you with an unreadable expression on his face, still smirking.

“What?”, you asked nervously.

“I don’t know,” he crossed his legs. “I still don’t get you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You can have anyone at Hogwarts and yet you choose him,” he made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “I don’t get it.”

You were oddly flattered by this hidden compliment – and confused as to why he made you compliment at all. “First of all, we talked about this,” you began. “Secondly, I don’t want him anymore. And lastly, thanks, but I really can’t have anyone.”

“First of all,” Malfoy mimicked you, “we’ll talk about it again until I understand it. Secondly, I don’t believe you why else would you be so obsessed with that red-haired looser and lastly, yes you can.”

“I’m not obsessed with him!”, you protested.

“A little,” Malfoy made a gesture with his thumb and second finger, demonstrating how little.

“Absolutely not!”

“Uhm, yes, you are. It’s embarrassing.”

“And,” you cut him off, desperately trying to change the subject. “I can’t have the Slytherins.” As if this proved any point at all, you looked at him triumphantly.

He watched you, completely unimpressed. “Yes, you can. Most of them probably wouldn’t marry you but –”

“ – but I’d be good enough for a few nights of fun?”, you raised your eyebrows.

He nodded. “Maybe even a few months of dating.”

“Oh, how generous,” you rolled your eyes.

“That’s more than the Weasel gave you.”

“Ouch!”, you dramatically placed a hand over your heart. You didn’t want to admit it – but he was right.

You sat together in the Three Broomsticks for at least an hour. Both of you began to feel more and more relaxed, the awkwardness from the previous day slowly vanishing. Maybe because this didn’t feel like you were put on the spot and had to pretend anything. You didn’t try and act like a couple, you just sat in front of each other … and talked. A little color returned to Malfoy’s cheeks and you were glad to see it. Whatever hurt him was forgotten, even if it was just for a few moments.

The conversation went surprisingly easy, sprinkled with sarcasm and teasing, both making fun of the other but never in a hurtful way. It was fun and actually enjoyable. Of course, this wasn’t the first experience you had with Malfoy that felt so easy but it surprised you nonetheless. Because with every passing minute, you seemed to forget who really sat in front of you. The houses, the families, nothing mattered. Right now, you were simply two teenagers who shared a drink and a few funny stories together.

It was all good until you decided to share a little anecdote about your mother and her fear of spiders when Malfoy suddenly asked: “You have a sister, right?”

Your smile froze as you stared at him. _He knew._ You could see it in his eyes. _Pity._ Who told him? Who else knew except for your friends? You closed your mouth and swallowed hardly when you slowly got up.

“Nevermind,” Malfoy sensed that he had overstepped. “Forget it. Sit back down. I’m sorry.”

If it was any other situation, you’d be surprised that he apologized to you. In fact, this was already the second time he had said those words since the beginning of the year. The only two times since you met him, really.

“It’s fine,” you said a little distraught. “I’ll just go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

_He knew._

_What now?,_ you wondered. How were you supposed to react? You didn’t want to tell him. No, you didn’t want to speak about it at all. It took you completely off-guard. The way to the bathroom seemed blurry as you were so wrapped up in your thoughts. You didn’t hear the door opening and didn’t feel the cold air flowing in. Only when you almost bumped into a group of people, you looked up.

Your eyes widened when you saw who stood in front of you. Beautiful, long, dark hair, covered in snowflakes and eyes that wanted to kill you: Astoria Greengrass.

“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled.

Then the door opened once again and a second group of people stepped inside. You saw Hermione, Harry … and Ron.

_Fuck._


	9. Hogsmeade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your support! I love you all so much!!

There was a loud ringing in your head as your brain frantically tried to decide what to do next. Your eyes shot back and forth between Greengrass and Ron. Everyone’s attention was fixated on you. Time began to slow down and what felt like an eternity to you must have only been a few milliseconds in reality. Then Ron opened his mouth but before he could get a single word out, you had decided.

“Bathroom,” you blurted out like an idiot and rushed towards said room, not looking back.

Inside, you forced yourself to resist the urge to pace and instead grabbed the cold ceramic of the sink.

_Get your shit together!_

Three deep breaths. One … two … three. The last one came out as a sigh and you leaned down to splash cold water at your face. While coming back up, you mumbled a spell to dry your skin. Better. So much better. Your reflection now stared back at you, the anxiety all too visible in your eyes.

_He knew._

Your family did everything they possibly could to keep Alissa’s name out of the Daily Prophet when it had happened. It hurt too much; too big was the shame that followed. You were purebloods but you didn’t get raised to think that it would matter. Your parents were kind and loving growing up and to this day, you didn’t understand what went wrong. What made her want to destroy the lives of so many families, including her own. It happened over two years ago and yet, what she did changed you. There was no coming back of it. You didn’t speak of the incident at home but it always lingered over your head when your mother freaked out over nothing again and your father hid in his study all day. When Hogwarts opened back up, you were more than relieved. Here, you wouldn’t have to think of it. Here, you were happy.

However, it didn’t surprise you that Malfoy knew, now that you thought about it. Alissa believed in the same thing his family did. Obviously, the Death Eaters would have been aware of who attempted the Cleansing.

“Shit,” you cursed and rubbed your hand over your eyes.

_Get your shit together!_

There was no time for this now. You didn’t want to think about it. Malfoy had probably understood that when he saw your reaction. What were you supposed to do now? Speaking about it? Certainly not. Hogwarts was not the place. Here, you were happy.

Besides, there were more urgent situations to deal with. Ron and Greengrass.

“Having a meltdown in a bathroom?” Speak of the devil. “How very pre-war of you.”

Astoria walked in, graciously as always. She looked beyond beautiful in her dark-green coat (oh, how very Slytherin) and with that long ebony hair flowing down her back in soft waves. Her delicate features and blood-red lips would have made anyone wonder why Malfoy would choose someone like you over _her_ , you thought.

Pansy Parkinson followed her inside. She walked over to the sink on your left side. You stayed quiet, waiting for Astoria to go into one of the stalls. She didn’t leave you out of her sight, making you feel like a bird in front of a housecat. Then she stepped over to the sink to your right. So she was here for you, after all.

The bathroom was filled with silence. You glanced at Astoria, waiting for her to make the first move. She expected you to act like the dumb quick-tempered Gryffindor she thought you were. You didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. However, Astoria began washing her hands while Pansy plucked at her ponytail. Nothing happened.

After a few more seconds, you took a step back and turned towards the door. Still nothing. It was truly irritating but you kept your composure and started walking steadily towards it. Just when you reached for the door handle, Astoria spoke.

“You don’t stand a chance, Y/L/N.”

Finally.

“Excuse me?”, you asked innocently and looked at her.

She didn’t acknowledge you and pulled red lipstick out of her bag, tracing the outlines of her lips with it. “You don’t stand a chance,” Astoria repeated. “Against me.”

You raised one eyebrow. “Since when are we competing?”

Behind her, Pansy stopped working on her hair and turned towards you, watching you through narrow eyes.

“Something is going on with Draco. There’s no other explanation because let’s be honest what reason would he have to date _you,_ ” Astoria continued, unbothered by your question. “An I don’t know why the two of you try to keep this … farce alive. Yet. But don’t you worry, I will find out – and he _will_ come back to me.” She put away her lipstick and looked at you with a smile so fake, a blind man could see it.

There was one thing that you desperately wanted to avoid – getting down on her level. However, this little speech of hers begged for a response.

“Funny how you say _come back_ when you’ve never even dated.”

Despite the insult, she didn’t even blink. The smile was still plastered on her face.

“And one last thing before you go,” you opened the door slightly. “Why do you want this engagement so badly, Greengrass? I don’t get it.”

She squinted her eyes. “There’s a lot you don’t get.”

This clearly hit a nerve. With a smug look on your face, you spoke again: “Why him? Is there no man left that wants you so you have to turn to him? But sure, I wish you all the best in trying to get back a man who already made a decision.” Before she had the chance to answer, you walked back into the pub.

Done. Feeling like you had just won a battle, you lifted your chin up, a huge smile on your face.

***  
  
Malfoy still sat on the same table. He leaned back against the chair, legs stretched out, hands crossed behinds neck while he watched the people outside walk by the window. He seemed completely unbothered by the way Ron kept staring at him from across the room.

Ron, Harry and Hermione had sat down in the corner of the small pub. They talked quietly and you noticed how Hermione and Harry kept exchanging concerned looks when they caught their friend staring at the Slytherin.

“You look happy,” Malfoy stated when you sat back down at the table. “Made up with Astoria?”

“Yeah, right,” you snorted.

Malfoy sat up straight, putting his hands back on the table. “Anything I need to worry about?”

“No,” you shook your head. “We just had a little … girls talk.”

“Right,” he gave you an amused look.

“Did anything happen with …”, you lowered your voice and tilted your head in the direction of the Golden Trio.

“The Weasel? No. They got their butterbeer, sat down and now he keeps staring at me.”

“So you did notice!”

“Who wouldn’t,” he smirked. “I thought briefly about asking him if he wants to buy me dinner first.”

You had just started to drink from your butterbeer but the comment made you chuckle, causing you to breath in while you swallowed. You coughed, spilling beer all over yourself. You quickly put the mug down and laughed even harder, your cheeks turning hot.

“Oh no,” you managed to get out in between giggles and tried to wipe away the beer from your hand.

Malfoy watched you with wide eyes, obviously trying to stifle a laughter. He quickly said a spell, cleaning the table and yourself up. Just when you wanted to thank him, a loud voice interrupted the situation.

“Alright, stop it!”

Ron Weasley stood next to your table, hands on his hips, jaw clenched. The smiles on your faces vanished.

“What are you doing?”, the Redhead directed this question at you.

“Enjoying my butterbeer?”, you replied slowly. “Or well, right now I spilled it but –”

“Cut the bullshit, Y/N,” he growled. “What are you doing with _him?_ ”

You looked over to Malfoy whose eyes were on Ron, a slight close-lipped smile on his lips. He was obviously loving this.

“You can’t be serious about this!”, Ron was fuming. “Dating a Slytherin is bad enough but _him?_ Have you now completely lost your mind?!”

“Careful, Weasel, you’re talking to my girlfriend,” Draco said with a low voice. An irritating shiver ran down your back when you heard him calling you that.

Ron let out a fake laugh – loud enough that students at the other tables turned their heads. Behind him, Harry and Hermione watched the scene with a disturbed expression on their faces.

“This is none of your business, Ron,” you tried to remain calm. “And I’d appreciate it –”

“I am your friend!”, he said with a firm voice. “We have been friends for years and right now, I’m worried –”

“We haven’t been friends for months now,” you interrupted him. “So take your bullshit elsewhere.”

The comment didn’t seem to hurt Ron in the slightest. Instead of leaving, he leaned down, lowering his voice slightly. “Is he … is he forcing you to do this?”

Malfoy chuckled.

The corners of your mouth twitched as you tried to suppress a grin. “What the hell, Ron?! No! He’s not forcing me, we’re _dating_. He’s my boyfriend and he wants to be with me. I know it’s hard for you to imagine that I’m someone’s first choice.” The words rolled over your tongue before you had the chance to think them through. You regretted them right away though, knowing what would come next.

His eyes widened in surprise. “This is what the whole thing is about then? _Me._ ”

“Don’t make yourself more important than you are, it’s embarrassing.” That was Malfoy.

Ron ignored him and lowered his voice even more. You knew that he didn’t want others to hear his words. No, no others. _Hermione_. “This is about me? You’re trying to hurt me because I admitted …,” he stopped himself.

_Admitted to having a crush on me,_ you finished the sentence in your head.

“You’re trying to hurt me?”, he kept talking. “Oh Merlin, that is so … so … I have no words. This is whole thing is getting old, Y/N. We talked about this and –” Suddenly he came closer, probably to add something else but then Malfoy was up on his feet in seconds, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from you.

“Get your nose out of her face before I break it, Weasel,” his voice reminded you of a growl. He glared at Ron. “And as if Y/N would spend one more second thinking about your disgusting self.” He pushed him slightly. Ron tumbled backwards, taken off-guard by it.

“Stop it,” Harry had jumped up and come over, putting himself between the two.

You got up as well, reaching for Malfoys hand before anything else could happen. “Let’s go, it’s not worth it,” you reached for your jacket with the other hand. “Come on.”

There were maybe three seconds of agonizing silence where the two man stared each other down. Malfoys whole body tensed up and you sensed that he was ready to go at him any second. Then he suddenly relaxed. Sending him another appalled look, he grabbed his coat. You slowly began walking towards the door, not letting go of his arm. Malfoy followed you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Parkinson and Greengrass standing in front of the bathroom, watching you with curious expressions.

“What did Malfoy mean by that?”, you heard Hermione ask.

“Nothing,” Ron grumbled.

Then you felt Malfoys hands on your back, navigating you outside.

***

Malfoy and you began to walk quietly up the crowded streets of Hogsmeade. You buried your hands in the pockets of your jacket, taking long steps, still a little shaken by what had just happened. The way Malfoy looked at Ron, had reminded you of the school years before the war. Apparently there was still some of that hatred left inside of him.

Looking over to him, you noticed how he pressed his lips together. At first you thought he was upset but then you noticed the amused sparkle in his eyes. _He thought this was funny._

You sighed. “Say it.”

Malfoy glanced at you.

“You never hold back so no reason to start now,” you said.

He let out a deep breath of air. “Him?”, he exclaimed, raising his hand in the direction of the pub. “You have feelings for him?!”

“Had,” you corrected him. “Malfoy, we went over this already.”

“And the more we talk about the less I understand.”

You exhaled. “Me too.”

“You really have to work on your standards, Y/N,” he shook his head in disbelief.

“Says the one who dated Parkinson,” you countered.

He crinkled his nose. “You remember that?”

“Everyone in Hogwarts remembers it,” you chuckled. “She wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“Mhh,” Malfoy gave a half shrug. “It’s still better than having feelings for him.”

“ _Had,”_ you repeated yourself sharply.

“Right,” he mumbled.

Having almost reached the end of the street, you made a turn to the right, heading in the direction of the Forbidden Forest.

“Thanks for defending me though,” you said after a while.

He smirked. “Last time you told me that you didn’t want me to defend you.”

“Last time you said you didn’t defend me, you were just annoyed by him,” you called him out.

“Hmm.” Another one of those undefinable sounds.

You continued with a smile: “But thank you. It really played into the whole … boyfriend act.”

Malfoy simply nodded. Silence surrounded you once again.

After a while, you sat down on a nearby bench. You lifted your face towards the sky. The sun had fully come out now, melting the remaining snow on the ground. You closed your eyes, letting the sunrays warm up your cheeks. A soft hum escaped your lips. Despite the drama in your lives, it was still a beautiful day.

When you opened your eyes again, you caught Malfoy staring at you. He blinked when you noticed him and quickly pretended to look at the forest behind you. A strange feeling in the pit of your stomach caused you to shift nervously.

“This didn’t go well,” Malfoy broke the silence. You were thankful for that.

“You mean the talk with Ron?”

He nodded. “My friends, Blaise and Theo, they didn’t believe that we’re dating either and accused me of the same thing,” he told you.

You furrowed your brows. “They accused you of us faking the relationship?”

“Yeah,” he sighed and leaned back. “Apparently I’m not the first one to get out of engagements like this.”

“Well, alright, but that’s because the whole pureblood engagement thing is fucked up,” you suggested instead. Then you remembered how Astoria had reacted back at the Three Broomsticks. Was something like this really so common? People trying to get out of arranged marriages in the weirdest of ways?

He looked at you and you wondered if that there was a small part of him that agreed with your previous statement.

“Maybe,” Malfoy admitted. “But either way, we have to start acting more like a couple to make this believable.”

More like a couple? What did that mean? You spent the day together, you talked, you laughed – what more did those people want? A thought crossed your mind then; you didn’t touch him enough. Was that it? Small gestures couples do all the time that were still missing – holding hands, leaning into each other, brushing a strand of hair out of the face, resting a hand on the knees of the others?

Malfoy thought the same thing. “We should try to … display affection more often.” After a brief pause, he added: “If you’re comfortable with it.”

Once again, you were surprised by how hesitant he was when it came to this. It reminded you of the day before when he had asked to hold your hand. “Your mother raised you well, you know.”

He raised his eyebrows at the statement. “A lot of people would disagree with you.”

You smiled softly at him. “Alright,” you then said. “Let’s be more touchy.” With that you scooted closer to him, reaching for his hand. It was cold, much colder than you expected. Probably because he wasn’t wearing gloves any more.

Malfoy seemed irritated by your sudden action. His eyes darting back and forth between your entangled hands and your face. You wondered if you had gone too far too quickly. Maybe he was so reluctant because _he_ wasn’t comfortable with your touch. Right before you had the chance to let the embarrassment roll over you and pull away your hand, he squeezed it slightly. When you looked up at him, all the confusion in his eyes was gone and replaced by the signature smirk of his.

There it was again. That strange feeling in the pit of your stomach.

_It’s the butterbeer,_ you thought. _What else could it be?_

***

You spent the rest of the day together, mainly sitting on that bench. You talked for ages, about everything and nothing at all. Mostly about what had happened earlier in The Three Broomsticks – and school. Anecdotes from your respective house mixed together with rants about your least favorite teachers. It felt good. Familiar. In the back of your head, you were glad that he didn’t mention your sister another time.

Later on, you would consider this day the beginning of your friendship.

Once it got too cold, you started visiting the small stores, warming up inside and gazing at the wonders they sold. In Honeydukes you went on a shopping spree, excitedly picking out sweets while Malfoy followed behind you. He couldn’t buy anything and by the way he had acted in the pub, you sensed that there was more to it than simply having forgotten his money. So you secretly picked something out for him, handing it to the Slytherin when you were back outside.

Malfoy tried to refuse, raising his hands, not wanting to take it. You were having none of this bullshit though and simply stuffed it into the pocket of his coat. Malfoy didn’t show it in this moment but he was touched by the small gesture. Later that evening, he would put it in his nightstand and the next time he’d eat a piece of the candy would be a few weeks later in the desperate attempt of recreating the taste of your lips. It would become his favorite kind of candy, simply because they reminded him of you.

When the sun began to set, you made your way back to Hogwarts. You passed through the gates as two of the last people. Everyone else was getting ready for dinner by the time you reached the castle.

Saying goodbye was still a little awkward. What were you supposed to say? Were you supposed to kiss him? Looking around, you didn’t see anybody. No kiss necessary then. You were relieved. Instead, he squeezed your hand again and you mumbled something along the lines of “It was fun”. Before you parted ways, he smirked at you another time and sent you off with a wink.

***  
  


Walking back to the Gryffindor common room, you were filled with a variety of emotions. Mostly confusion. It was astonishing to you, how fast you and him slipped into that role of being a couple. This morning, you thought it would feel wrong and unnatural. It didn’t. Not after today. The ice between you was broken.

You were still curious as to what was wrong with him when you left for Hogsmeade. Something must have happened. But then again, Malfoy had changed so drastically since his sixth year, there was probably more than one thing going on his life. A part of you wanted to find out though. A part of you … cared. You swallowed hard. It was the perfect reminder that you shouldn’t. You needed to stay focused. This was temporary – yes, maybe you didn’t completely dislike him afterwards. That was fine by you. Maybe you even became friends. Distant friends who talked to each other once a year after school. It was also fine by you. But you had to remind yourself, that none of this was real. His feelings were not real. It was all pretend.

“Look who’s back,” Ginny greeted you when you walked inside your dorm. She sat on her bed with a book on her lap, grinning from ear to ear. “The next time there’s a showdown between Malfoy and my brother, please tell me.”

“You heard?”, you replied in surprise before adding: “It wasn’t a showdown.”

“Hermione said Malfoy actually jumped up and pushed Ron to defend you,” she snorted. “Oh, your knight in shining armor.”

You rolled your eyes at her. “Stop it.”

She chuckled and turned her attention back to her book. “There’s a letter for you on the table, by the way.”

You frowned when you saw that she was right. The handwriting of your mother caught your eyes. You weren’t expecting letters from her and it made you wonder what this regarding. You opened it quickly, throwing the envelope on the table. There were only two sentences written on paper.

_I heard from Molly. How could you._

A deep sigh escaped your lips. So she knew about your ‘relationship’ with Malfoy. Fantastic.


	10. Dating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick reminder, that all of you are so damn amazing! Thank you for the amazing feedback!! <33

_Two days after Hogsmeade …_

Monday morning. You yawned and it turned into a chuckle when Malfoy mimicked you.

“It’s contagious,” he defended himself quietly to avoid attracting Professor Sprouts attention. He sat next to you, way back in the last row of the classroom. It had been your idea – after finding out that almost none of your friends believed your act, it seemed like a good idea to sit next to each other during classes. Maybe it would help convince them.

With a flick of her wand, Professor Sprout made an assignment appear on the blackboard. Nothing too difficult. You walked to the front to get the small flower you were supposed to work with and Ron glared at you from his seat. You ignored him.

Back at your table, Malfoy and you started working together quietly. When you looked at his notes, you leaned over a little too closely, feeling dizzy from the smell of his cologne. Whenever he reached for something, his hand brushed over yours. His comments were accompanied by smiles and direct eye contact. He played his part so well, you almost believed it. From the corners of your vision, you saw Ron staring.

You acted the same in every class that you shared. During breaks, you stayed together – always a few feet away from the others. You discovered how funny he could be when he gave you live-commentary of a fight happening between a Ravenclaw and Slytherin.

In the evening, you came back to your dorm, feeling unusually content. Not even the letter from the parents on your desk changed that. _I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh,_ your mother had written. _I simply don’t understand and I am scared for you. I can’t lose you too._

“Oh, mum,” you whispered, rubbing your neck. Then you sat down and reached for a quill. She deserved the truth. At least, a little of it.

***

_One week after Hogsmeade …_

Draco was happy.

Well, maybe _happy_ was a little exaggerated but he felt … calmer. He used to spend his free time by himself which gave him plenty of opportunities to think. About the war, his parents, himself – and it nearly killed him. The notebook was an escape, a good way to focus, but it wasn’t enough. No matter how many pages he filled, he still felt himself sliding away from his surroundings. Now he spent that time with you – and things began to change. In those few days he even stopped dreading getting out of bed because Draco had finally something to look forward to again: spending time with you.

Draco considered you his friend. A part of him had trouble with the realization since being around someone like you went against everything his parents taught him but he tried tirelessly to shut it off. No, you were his friend and being around you made him feel almost okay.

“What are you writing?”

The sound of your voice caused Draco to look up from his notebook. The two of you sat in the library. You were across from him, finishing up on some homework. Draco shrugged. What was he supposed to say? _I’m writing about you?_ Certainly not.

“Can I read it at some point?”, you tilted your head in curiosity. You did that a lot, Draco noticed. It reminded him of a puppy.

_Am I comparing her to a dog?,_ he scolded himself in the next second. No, he didn’t mean it like that. He meant to think that he thought it was cute when you did that. You … were cute.

“It’s okay,” you finally said with a smile when you sensed his hesitation. “It’s personal, I get it – or do you keep track of dirty dreams in it?” You teased him.

“Only of the dreams involving you,” he winked at you, causing you to snort. Despite the joke, Draco was relieved you didn’t dig any further.

From where he sat, he had a direct view of the huge door leading inside the library. This was the reason why he saw the Greengrass sisters walking in, their gaze immediately landing upon him. He casually reached over the table and softly began to draw circles on your soft skin with the tip of his finger. He smirked at your shiver.

“Ron?”, you asked, not looking up from your book.

“Astoria,” he replied.

A few minutes later, Astoria and Daphne left again. Draco didn’t pull his hand away.

***

_Two weeks after Hogsmeade …_

Snowflakes were dancing in the cold winter air as you sat on the bleachers with Malfoy. Down on the Quidditch field, the Slytherins were practicing under the strong rule of Zabini. Games were cancelled but they still needed to stay in shape.

“I never pictured you as an Auror,” Malfoy confessed. He had asked about your future plans just seconds before.

“Why?”, you wanted to know.

He thought about it for a moment. “I don’t know. I always thought you’d become … a healer. Or a teacher maybe.”

His words made you laugh. “Are you serious?”

Malfoy nodded.

“Well, no,” you shrugged. “I wanted to be an Auror since I was little girl. And I’ll make it, believe me.”

He raised his hands in a defensive manner. “I have no doubts about that. It simply surprised me.”

You chuckled another time at the thought of becoming a teacher. It had always been the furthest thing on your mind. You loved Hogwarts, it had been your home for years but you craved to see more from the world. Especially since the war happened. You didn’t want to spend your whole life in this castle.

“What do you want to do?”, you then asked, curious as to what his answer might be. It was hard for you to picture him outside of school.

Malfoy shrugged. “I don’t know.”

It surprised you. “Really?”, you wondered. “Pureblood families like yours normally have a plan set up for their kids, don’t they?”

“Normally,” he laughed bitterly. “My father wanted me to follow his footsteps and get some high-ranking job in the Ministry. That’s not an option anymore. For obvious reasons.”

He was probably right. The wounds were still too fresh. The chances for a former Death Eater to be employed in the Ministry of Magic were slim.

You stayed on the bleachers for hours. It had only been a little over two weeks since the Halloween party and yet you had become a lot closer to Malfoy than you expected. You felt comfortable talking to him. Both of you had very different childhoods and friends – you came from different worlds. However, it was precisely this fact that made it easy to talk to each other. You were almost certain that he felt the same.

***

_Three weeks after Hogsmeade …_

Draco watched you flick through the pages of a magazine and for the first time since that night in the storage room, he _saw_ you. And by Merlin, how beautiful you were.

He sat on the couch in the Room of Requirements with you, listening to the flames crackling in the small fireplace in front of him. You were laying down on your back, head propped up against the armrest, a small wrinkle on your forehead as you read the descriptions in the magazine. Your legs were stretched out and on his lap. Draco wondered why – no one would be around to see you anyways.

“Stop staring, Malfoy, it’s creepy,” you giggled.

Draco blinked as he snapped back into reality. “I’m not staring, I’m thinking, Y/L/N.”

“Think without staring at me.”

_Easier said than done._

Draco cleared his throat. “What are you looking at anyways?”

“Christmas presents for my parents. But,” you clicked your tongue, “I can’t find anything good.”

Draco grabbed your legs and lifted them slightly while moving over closer to you. “Let me see. I’m awesome at getting gifts.”

***

_Four weeks after Hogsmeade …_

When December arrived, Hogwarts felt like home again. A cheerful atmosphere filled the castle, accompanied by snowball fights outside and hot chocolates in the common rooms. As if a spell was lifted, something changed within the students and parents alike.

You happily noticed how Ginny needed less and less of her sleeping medicine. The nightmares slowly faded, being replaced by happier memories. The letters from your mother barely mentioned your sister anymore. Instead, she talked about carriage rides in the snow with your father and her plans for Christmas dinner. For the first time in a while, you looked forward to going home.

You wondered if it was the same for Draco. When they put up the Christmas tree in the Great Hall, he got even more quiet than usual. It planted an idea inside your head and on that same day, you wrote a letter to your parents, asking them if he could spend the holidays with them. They agreed. It came to no surprise to you; your mother was eager to meet him and see if her prejudices and fears would be proven right.

“I don’t want to impose,” Draco said with a stern voice when you told him after dinner.

“You’re not! I asked them and they want to meet you. Come on,” you insisted.

He watched you with uncertainty and furrowed brows. “I don’t know. I can’t –”

“What are your plans for Christmas?”, you interrupted him.

Draco looked away at the question; that same expression of bitterness on his face that you’d seen too often for your own liking.

“I thought so,” you said softly. “Please, Draco, come with me.”

He sighed and wiped his hands over his eyes. “Why would they even want to meet me?”

You smiled widely. “You’re my boyfriend.” Never would you have thought it would sound normal to say that.

“Yes, but –”, he lowered his voice, “– but not really.”

True. For a weird reason, it stung a little to be reminded by him. “I am your friend though, aren’t I?”

He blinked at the word ‘friend’ and you wondered if he felt differently about it. Then he nodded.

“Awesome!”, you exclaimed, shooing away your worries. “Then it’s settled. Christmas at my place.”

In that moment, Harry and Ron walked passed you. Ron didn’t even glance at you. How weird, you wondered, this was the first time in days that you thought about him.

***

_Five weeks after Hogsmeade …_

_My dearest Draco,_

_I am delighted to hear that Y/N’s family invited you for Christmas. They are very kind to do so. Please remember to bring a little housewarming gift. Although it hurts me to be away from you this Christmas, I do believe it’s a better option for you than visiting your grandparents with me. I’m sure the holidays will be spent in a rather somber spirit this year as your father will be unable to join us. I want you to have at least a little fun and am looking forward to your stories._

_Lots of love, your Mother_

_P.S.: I met with Mrs. Greengrass yesterday. She is not upset and gave me her word to wait until you are ready._

Draco shook his head in amusement when he finished reading the letter. Only his mother could wish him a nice time with his (fake) girlfriend and then continue with ‘if you’re done having fun, your fiancée is still available’.

“That’s why pureblood traditions are fucked up,” was something you would say right now. But you weren’t here. You were practicing for the first Quidditch game in the new year and Draco sat in his dorm, waiting for Blaise to get ready.

Reading the letter a second time, he started to wonder. Why would Mrs. Greengrass wait? Why did their family want this union so desperately? The questions were lingering on his mind ever since you brought them up months ago. He failed to come up with an answer to this day.

“Please don’t tell me that’s a letter to Y/N,” Blaise announced when he stepped out of the bathroom.

Draco rolled his eyes. “It’s from my mother, idiot.”

“Good,” his friend sighed dramatically. “Because I rarely get to see you now that you have her. No need for you to start writing love letters when she’s not around.”

Even though his nagging slightly annoyed Draco, he realized something in this moment: it had worked. The whole PDA and ‘being-more-affective-in-public’- thing worked. It had been almost two weeks since Theo or Blaise (or even Astoria) tried to get him to confess that they were faking it. His friends started to believe them.

“Yeah, whatever,” Draco gave a dismissive wave of his hand and put the letter away. “Maybe I just don’t want to see you, Zabini, and it has nothing to do with Y/N.”

Blaise laughed. “No, you love me too much. Now, let’s go. Theo’s waiting for us.”

***

_Six weeks after Hogsmeade …_

A loud shriek echoed through the classroom and you almost dropped the container of cat teeth on the floor. Parkinson jumped up and down, trying to get a slimy violet mass shaken off her leg. It didn’t budge and made its way up her pants, accompanied by absolutely disgusting slurping and smacking sounds. You tried hard to suppress a laugh but when you saw the way Harry grinned behind her, you couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling.

Professor Slughorn hurried over and quickly cast a spell. The mass fell down to the floor and stopped moving. “Oh well, Ms. Parkinson,” he quickly glanced inside her cauldron. “It’s important to add the cat teeth before the mandrake juice.” Then he knelt down in front of her, inspecting her pants. “It looks like nothing got on your skin. If I am mistaken, please go and see Madame Pomfrey. It can leave nasty burns behind.”

The Slytherin girl nodded, still in shock.

“What happened?”, Draco joined you at your table. He had gone to the backroom, to gather missing ingredients.

“Parkinson got attacked by her potion,” you sneered while counting the cat teeth. “It was hilarious.”

“I bet,” he grinned, before skimming over the instructions again.

“I think I need to go and see Madame Pomfrey,” Parkinson whined behind you. “It got through the fabric of my pants.”

_As if_ , you thought and rolled your eyes.

“Please go,” you heard Slughorn say. “Better not take any chances. Interestingly, this modified form of the potion has been used in the past. They removed foreign magical particles with it, such as certain marks that resulted from dark spells. It is very aggressive though and since then, the healers have invented different potions. However, when it touches your normal skin, it only leaves burns and scars. Please, Ms. Parkinson, please go. Mr. Nott, you can accompany her.”

“Huh,” Draco made next to you. “What did she do wrong again?”

You sighed when you saw that you had miscounted the teeth. Damnit.

“Y/N?”

“What?”, you looked at him.

Draco stared at the liquid inside the cauldron, a blank expression on his face. “What did Pansy do wrong?”

“She put in the mandrake juice before the cat teeth.” You frowned. “Why?”

“No reason.”

***

_That same day …_

It was late when you returned from Quidditch practice; tired and sweaty. All you craved was a shower and then your bed. Playing that sport in your free time was one thing but practicing under Ginny as Captain? You were glad that you didn’t die yet.

“Y/L/N!”

Someone shouted your name as you walked inside the castle.

“Y/L/N!”

Irritated, you turned around, trying to make out the person that voice belonged to.

“Y/L/N, here!” Theodore Nott sprinted down the stairs, coming from the direction of the Gryffindor common room. “Fuck, we looked everywhere for you!”, he cursed, completely out of breath, when he finally reached you.

“We?”, you asked with wide eyes. “What’s going on?”

You then noticed the fear in his eyes. He gripped so tightly onto the stair railings that his knuckles turned white and his whole body was trembling. Panic began to dwell up inside of you. _Draco._

“It’s Draco, something happened,” he panted. “You have to come, please!”

Your blood froze. “What’s going on?!”, your voice turned shrill but he ran down the stairs again.

“Come!”, he shouted. “ _Now_!”

The two of you sprinted down stairs and hallways, passing confused classmates on the way. Adrenaline pumped through your veins and you repeated the same sentence over and over again in your head: _Something happened to Draco._ The thought of it was unbearable and it hit you like a brick wall, making it hard to breathe. _Please, no. Not him._

When you reached the entrance to the Slytherin common room, Theodore turned to you abruptly. He grabbed you by your shoulders. “Act normal,” he hissed. “Walk slowly. They don’t need to know.”

You nodded absently. Your hands were clam and you tried to calm down your breathing.

“Okay,” he didn’t seem convinced that you understood him. Then he mumbled the password and the door opened.

Under normal circumstances, you would have stopped in the middle of the room, looking around in awe. You’d never been here before; it was a mystery to you. But now, you only briefly glanced at the green and black furniture. There weren’t many students around. The ones that saw you, stared at your red Quidditch robes.

“What the fuck?”, someone said loudly. “What’s she doing here?!”

Nott ignored them, leading you quickly to the stairs that must have led up to the dorms. You noticed the windows on the way up and gasped when you realized that you didn’t look at the fields of Hogwarts. _You were under the Black Lake._

“Finally,” Zabini exclaimed. He had waited in front of a door, looking just as shaken up as Nott. “You found her.”

“What’s going on?”, you asked for the third time now. “Where is he?”, your voice trembled a little.

“In here,” Nott pointed at the room. “In the bathroom. He locked himself in.”

“He wouldn’t let us in and asked for you,” Zabini continued with a quiet voice, fidgeting with his hands. “It’s … you’ll see. Just go in and help him.” He paused briefly. “Please.”

You nodded and reached for the door handle. Three deep breaths. One … two … three.

You pushed open the door and stepped in, closing it softly behind you. Looking around, everything looked perfectly ordinary. Three beds, three wardrobes, a table. Your gaze wandered over to the door that lead into the bathroom. Then you heard it – a sob. And another one. Someone was crying. _He_ was crying. Your heart broke at the sound.

“Draco?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you notice how Y/N stopped calling him "Malfoy" halfway through the chapter and called him "Draco" instead? ^^


	11. Desperation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say .... I love you all so much?! You are so sweet and it's so much fun to engage with you! Thank you <33 And now: prepare for the angst!! ^^

“Draco?”

It was nothing more than a whisper. You stood frozen in place, staring at the bathroom door. Your heart was beating so hard in your chest that you were scared it would jump out any second now. Every breath that left your lungs trembled, showing the panic you tried to swallow down so badly. It was an eerie feeling – standing here in their empty room. The water of the Black Lake illuminated the room in a soft green light. You blinked and wondered if the shadow behind the glass had been just a figment of your imagination.

You cleared your throat. “Draco?”

Five large steps and you crossed the room. “Draco, it’s me,” you tried to sound as calm and collected as you possibly could and you were glad he couldn’t see the way, you started to pick at your thumb. It would start to bleed soon, you were sure. You turned the doorknob but Zabini and Nott had been right. Draco had locked himself in.

There was no response from inside. He had gone silent. When you pressed the air against the wooden door, you could still hear suppressed whimpers. Your heart began to race again. Something was wrong, so very wrong.

„Draco, let me in, please,” you said a little louder and a little more panicked. “I can help you, just let me in!”

“No!”

You flinched at his sudden reaction.

“No, y-you can’t … you can’t h-help m-me.” The way his voice broke at the end of the sentence made it feel like he stabbed you with sharp knife. You swallowed, fighting the tears that began to dwell up. He needed your help now. You needed to be strong for him now, there was no point in him seeing you cry. This wasn’t about you.

“I’m coming in,” you announced and pulled out your wand. He made weak sounds of protest but you ignored them. Three deep breaths, you thought to yourself. Then I’m going in.

One … Two … Three.

“Alohomora.” There was a click and door slowly opened, accompanied by a high-pitched creaking noise.

You gasped when you took in the scene that unfolded in front of you. The bathroom was a mess. It looked a potions experiment gone wrong. Containers filled with liquids and other ingredients were scattered all over the wet floor. Pieces of broken glass filled the sink and a pungent smell that burned in your lungs hit you when you stepped in.

Draco Malfoy, the sarcastic Slytherin who never shied away from a confrontation and always had a witty comeback ready, sat on the floor and looked like a picture of misery. He leaned against the tub, legs stretched out and his left wrist pressed tightly against his chest. His white shirt was wet with water and …

You shrieked and put a hand over your mouth when you realized that it was blood that gave his shirt a light red color, running down his wrist and dropping from his elbow onto the dark tiles. Draco lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours for the first time since you walked in. His face was red, his eyes swollen and puffy from crying. His body was still shaking, trembling sobs he desperately tried to suppress were echoing through the small room.

It was the look in his eyes that made you drop to the floor on your knees. So full of pain and heartbreak. A sadness he shouldn’t be able to feel at his young age that made you lose the ground below your feet. “Oh god, Draco, oh god,” you whispered. You reached for the wrist he was still pressing up against his chest. “What did you do? Oh god, oh –”

Tears began to stream down his face again and sobs shook his body. He mumbled something you couldn’t understand but tried to turn and get away from your touch. Your heart was beating in your throat now and you quickly examined the situation. There wasn’t much blood so you guessed he didn’t … you couldn’t even finish that sentence in your head. Nonetheless, you reached for a towel behind you.

“Let me see, please,” your voice was heavy with worry and fear. “I want to help you. I need to see what happened.”

“No,” he croaked, staring at the ground. “No, p-please leave, Y/N…”

You shook your head vehemently. “No, I won’t go. I won’t leave you here, you’re obviously hurt and –”

“I don’t … I don’t w-want you to s-see me like this,” he spoke so softly, you could barely understand him. “So … so w-weak …”

A single tear ran down your cheek and you quickly wiped it away before he could see it. Then you reached for his face with your right hand. “Draco, you’re not weak,” you could feel him leaning into your touch, “but you have to let me help you now!”

His breathing was ragged. Draco didn’t reply.

“There is no shame in asking for help. Let me be there you,” you urged him, putting your other hand on his wrist. There was no force in your gesture; you simply let it rest there.

It felt like an eternity. You kneeled on the floor, water soaking through the thin fabric of your uniform. You’d probably start to feel cold if there wasn’t so much adrenaline pumping through your veins.

“I wanted to make it go away.”

It was more of a whimper than anything else. A simple sentence that beared so much pain. However, you didn’t know what it meant.

“What?”, you tilted your head in confusion.

“It“, he spat out. You moved in a little closer. “I can’t stand to look at it anymore. I am so … I am so disgusting … I …”, he sniffled. “I don’t want to see it anymore … it’s always there … I tried everything …”

In this moment, the scales fell from your eyes. Your gaze dropped down to his arm underneath your hand – his left arm. You had never seen him without long sleeves that covered both his arms. Up to now, there had never been a reason for it. It was winter by now and always a little chilly in the castle. Now you realized that there was a second reason why he wouldn’t show the skin of precisely this arm.

„Draco…” You didn’t know what you were going to say. What was there to say? What could you possibly do to ease his suffering?

„I just wanted it to go away …”, he continued, staring on the black tiles. “When Pansy …”

Your eyes widened at the confession. Parkinson messed up her potion this morning and Slughorn explained what it would do to the human skin. You remembered how his voice sounded when he asked what Pansy did wrong.

Oh no.

“You …?”

His head snapped towards you at your unspoken accusation and he looked at you with a clenched jaw.

“Oh Merlin,” you uttered in complete disbelief.

“Don’t pity me!”, he snapped. It reminded you of his old self. Scenes of him insulting Harry in the Great Hall flashed in front of your eyes.

“I don’t, Draco”, you tried to sound as comforting as you could. “I don‘t, believe me. But I see that you’re in pain. And you’re bleeding.” Tightening your grip on his wrist, you gave him a serious look.

His lips began to quiver again, his breathing becoming heavier.

“May I …?”, you asked. “I just want to stop the bleeding.”

Finally, he relaxed slightly and let you take his wrist. You grab it carefully, making sure not to hurt him, and turned it so you could see the damage.

His arm was decorated with a gaping wound, full of blisters and blood that oozed from them. It looked like a someone tried to scrape the skin off with a dull knife before putting it on a hot stove. Beneath it, a part of the Dark Mark was still untouched and visible; the black stood in sharp contrast with his pale skin and the sight of the skull made your blood freeze.

What happened next was something that you would scold yourself for the next days to come: you gagged and almost let go of his arm.

Draco felt it, of course he did, and another sob escaped him. He tried to pull his arm back but you tightened your grip, not allowing him do so. Apologies tumbled over your lips and you quickly grabbed the towel. Before you started to wrap it around the wound, you mumbled a few spells, trying to help him at least a little. Nothing worked. You had to bring him to Madame Pomfrey. He needed a professional healer not a student with mediocre magical capabilities. You made sure that the towel was wrapped his arm tightly to stop the bleeding. Draco flinched and drew breath through his teeth. More apologies from you followed, a stumbling mess. You were overwhelmed with the situation, nothing could have prepared you for this.

„It hurts so much …”, he croaked when you put his arm back in his initial position – pressed against his chest.

„I know, I’m sorry,” you said full of remorse. “We will bring you to Madame Pomfrey and she will give you something for the pain.”

He sighed and shook his head. “That’s not what I meant…”

You looked up at his words. “What do you mean, Draco?”

He needed a moment to answer. You didn’t push him, you just rested one hand on his thigh, stroking it softly. You weren’t sure if you did it to calm him or yourself.

“Everything,” he closed his eyes. “Being here. Getting up in the morning. Going to sleep in the evening.”

You let out a deep breath, not liking the direction this conversation was going. Not liking it all. „What?”, your voice only trembled a little.

„I keep thinking about it …”, his eyes were still closed. “It hardly ever leaves my mind …”

“About what?”, you wanted to know with a more pressing undertone now.

Draco finally opened his eyes. He looked so tired, so exhausted. „About what I did,” he finally explained. “What my parents did. About my life … I’m wrong…”

You furrowed your brows. “What makes you say that?”

He chuckled; it was a bitter, sad laugh. “Don’t play pretend, you know what I mean … You’re not wrong. You’re right. Everything about you is right. Everything about me is wrong. Everything I learned, everything I believed in …” He trailed off.

Oh. Now you understood what he tried to say. Something you had guessed all along, from the day you met. It explained his changes and his odd behavior. It was what draw you in at the beginning of the school year, fascinating you from afar. Seeing it unfolding in front of you was terrifying though.

You reached for his healthy hand and squeezed it softly. “You’re not wrong.”

A tear ran down his cheek. You suppressed the urge to wipe it away. “But I am, I –”

“No”, you interrupted him harshly. “You’re not wrong, Draco. Listen to me, please!” Putting a hand to his face, you forced him to look at you. “You were a child and you didn’t have a choice! The mistakes of your parents don’t define you.”

He smiled sadly. “Easy to say for someone with picture perfect parents.”

“My parents raised a Death Eater,” you scoffed. The sentence stung. You had never said it out loud. Yet it was the only thing that came to your mind in this moment. When you continued speaking, your voice grew softer: “Your parents raised a spoilt child, yes, but they didn’t raise a Death Eater. The past weeks with you … I saw you! Your efforts to change, to do better … it’s not too late. You recognized what went wrong and you want to learn and be a better man and Draco, that is worth so much.”

His body had begun to shake again, tears dwelling up in his puffy eyes. “I just want the pain to stop …”

“I know,” you sighed and pulled him into a hug. He didn’t resist. “I know, I’m so sorry, I wish I could –”

“Please make it stop,” he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. You felt his hot breath against your skin as he sobbed quietly.

“I’m so sorry,” you mumbled and stroked over his back. “I wish I could but –”

Suddenly, something happened. You didn’t know how it happened, but it did. Draco sat back, freeing himself from the kiss and then … he kissed you.

It was a rough kiss, full of despair and a passion only found in situations like these. He grabbed you by your neck, pulling you close. His lips were soft and tasted salty from his tears as he moved them against yours. There was nothing sweet about this – he wanted to forget, turn off the pain and drown out the fear by feeling you – by being close to you.

It took you a few seconds to realize what was going on. You placed your hands on his chest, breaking the kiss and pushing him away. “Draco, no …”, you stared at him in shock.

He reached out for you again, tears streaming down his face. A shiver ran down your spine when you saw his desperation. “Please,” he whispered. “Please, you can fix me…” He sobbed and leaned against you. Wrapping your arms around him, you wanted to scream. You didn’t know what to do, you weren’t prepared for this, you couldn’t help him.

“The only time I feel alive is when I’m with you, Y/N, the only time I feel like I’m alright is when I’m with you,” he muttered against the fabric of your uniform. “Please, fix me …”

You were crying now as well, completely overwhelmed. “No,”, you whispered, “No, I can’t fix you. I’m sorry, I can’t fix you …”

“Please …”

“I can be here for you, I will be here for you,” the panic didn’t leave your voice. “I can’t fix you, Draco, I don’t know how … I shouldn’t be…”

You weren’t sure for how long you sat in the bathroom with Draco. Minutes? Hours? All you knew in this moment was his trembling body against yours, his pleas for someone – for you – to help him and the fear in your system that made you stammer the same sentences over and over again.

Suddenly there was a hand on your shoulder. Theodor Nott knelt beside you, saying something you didn’t understand. Then Zabini appeared behind him. He reached for Draco, pulling him up on his feet. Nott helped you, putting one arm around your waist. Together you made your way to the hospital wing.

***

It was early in the morning when Draco woke up.

Upon reaching the hospital wing, Madame Pomfrey had ordered the boys to put Draco down in the nearest bed, attending to him right away. She whirled around, asking you all sorts of questions to which mostly Nott answered, before grabbing potions and weird smelling herbs and getting to work.

Nott got a chair for you to sit down next to Dracos bed. Then he and Zabini got sent out. When Madame Pomfrey was done treating his arm, she turned her attention towards you and handed you a funny looking liquid to drink.

“To calm your nerves, honey,” she had said and insisted that you finished it. It tasted disgusting. Yet, whatever it was, it seemed to help. You slowly began to feel better and at some point, you let the exhaustion take over and drifted off to sleep.

It wasn’t until Draco woke up that you did too. Something had startled you. Blinking and yawning, you sat back up in your chair. Your limbs and neck hurt from the uncomfortable position you had been in for the last few hours.

Looking at his bed, you saw Draco laying on his back, his eyes fixated on the ceiling, an empty expression on his face.

“Hey,” you whispered and leaned over to hold his hand. He didn’t react.

“How are you feeling?”, you asked, looking at the bandage around his arm.

Draco turned his head towards you. “Better, I guess,” his voice was still hoarse. “I don’t feel so …”

You chuckled. “Yeah, she gave me the same thing.”

A sad smile appeared on his lips. He looked at you for a while, an unreadable expression in his eyes. “I’m so … sorry,” he cleared his throat. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You shook your head. “Don’t be. You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“Yes, I do,” he replied. “I was a mess and –”

“That’s okay,” you tried to comfort him. “Happens to the best of us.”

“Having breakdowns about being a Death Eater?”, he frowned.

You snorted. “Maybe that’s only a thing for former Death Eaters, I admit that.”

The corners of his lips twitched but he didn’t smile. “I’m sorry about the kiss though.”

A sigh escaped your lips at the memory. Yeah. That happened. You almost forgot. „It’s fine. Pain leads us to do stupid things.“

“You’re not mad?“, he asked.

Again, you shook your head. “Of course not.”

Relieved, Draco let out a deep breath and turned his head to look back up at the ceiling. “We probably pretended for too long, I have to remind myself that we’re not actually dating.”

The confession took you by surprise. You frowned as you looked at him. He didn’t say anything else though and so you stayed there together in silence, holding hands. Outside, the sun started to rise, golden rays of sunlight flowing into the dark room. Classes would probably start soon. You were still wearing your Quidditch uniform and you crinkled your nose in disgust at the realization. You desperately needed a shower and a new set of clothes.

After a while, his eyelids began to flutter. With a smile, you watched Draco fall asleep.

You made sure Draco was actually sleeping before you let go of his hand and got up. Your whole body felt stiff and you cracked your neck. Then you walked over to Madame Pomfreys office. There was something that still needed to be done.

“Good morning,” the healer greeted you with a warm smile when you stepped inside. “How are you feeling, dear?”

“Better,” you replied. “Tired mostly.”

“That’s good,” she said. “I imagine it was quite a shock for you last night. Make sure to take a nap after classes.”

“I will.”

She smiled again before turning her attention back towards the book on your table. You hesitated, not knowing how to address it. When Madame Pomfrey noticed you weren’t leaving, she looked at you with worry. “Is there something else, dear?”

You sighed and rubbed over your neck. “Yes, actually,” you paused briefly. “It’s about Draco.”

She closed the book and leaned back in her chair. “What about Mr. Malfoy? Does he need something?”

You nodded. “Yes. A therapist.“

Madame Pomfrey raised her eyebrows, her mouth forming a quiet “oh”. This was the first time in her career as a healer that someone asked for that.

“I know, it’s not really a thing in the Wizarding World,” you continued quickly, scared she would interrupt you and send you outside. “It’s more common with the muggles but I read about it and I think it’s a good thing.”

“You believe, Mr. Malfoy needs a therapist?”, she asked slowly and folded her hands on the table. “You believe, I can’t help him?”

“No, that’s not what I said,” you defended yourself. “I believe you’re excellent at what you do but some wounds … some wounds can’t be treated with potions and herbs, Madame Pomfrey.”

The healer thought for a while. For so long in fact, you began to start feeling increasingly nervous, shifting uncomfortably. It wasn’t the first time you thought about bringing it up with her. Draco wasn’t the only who suffered, after all. The thought began to grow when you saw how your mother started grow colder. When you had to wake Ginny up from yet another nightmare and when McGonagall shouted at you to leave after a student had a panic attack in the hallways. There was no help for them. And sleeping medicine could only get you so far. What happened to Draco last night was only the last straw for you.

Madame Pomfrey sighed. When she looked back up, she seemed to have aged rapidly. “It’s sad, really, that poor boy …,” her gaze trailed off to the hospital wings behind you. “All those students ...”

“I believe a lot of the students could benefit from a professional to help them deal with everything that happened,” you added, looking expectantly at her.

Finally, she nodded. “Alright, let me see what I can do.”

A feeling of relief overcame you. “Thank you, Madame Pomfrey! Thank you!”

***

On the way to the common room, you were met with a lot of confused looks from your classmates. What it must have looked like for then – you in a dirty, bloody Quidditch uniform at seven in the morning, tired and exhausted like you spent the night outside. You were sure that rumors would spread like wildfire once Draco didn’t turn up for classes and someone mentioned how they saw you this morning. It was nothing you cared about though. Not right now.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

The voice of Professor Slughorn made you turn around in the hallway. The old man walked towards you with a quick step. Judging by the expression on his face, he had already heard what happened to Draco.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he lowered his voice when he reached you and saw the curious looks of some students around.

“Good morning, Professor,” you greeted him with half a smile.

“I heard about what happened to Mr. Malfoy last night, I hope you are alright?”

You nodded at his question.

“Good, good,” he continued. “I didn’t want to bother him but I know you and Mr. Malfoy have become rather close during those past weeks.”

When you noticed that he waited for some sort of approval, you nodded again. You didn’t understand where he was going with this.

“Just let him know that … his actions have no further consequences. I believe what happened is punishment enough.”

The statement made you take a step back. You furrowed your brows, as you stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“Oh,” Professor Slughorn cleared his throat. “He stole from my potions. But it will have no further consequences. I wanted to make that clear. Maybe you could tell him.”

“Right,” you scoffed. “Good for Draco.”

Slughorn looked at you for a moment as if he waited for you to thank him. You couldn’t believe him – his student, whose history he was well aware of, hurt himself in a mental breakdown and Slughorn expected you to be grateful for not punishing him for it? By Merlin, that’s why you needed a therapist in this damn school.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he then said. “Mr. Malfoy made some questionable choices in his past. He now needs to learn how to deal with it. He can’t hide behind his trauma forever and use it as an excuse for his behavior.”

You gritted your teeth. What was the punishment for punching a teacher in the face?

“Have a good day, Professor.”

***

Three Days later ...

Draco was released from the hospital wing on the same morning but was excused from school for the rest of the week. As you had suspected, rumors began to spread quickly.

“He tried to kill himself,” a student from Ravenclaw announced loudly during lunch at one point.

“I heard, he overdosed on some muggle drug,” a Hufflepuff said to his friends in the hallway. “You know how Slytherins are …”

“Maybe it was a fight between Y/L/N and Malfoy. He probably tried to hurt her or something, the whole relationship is doomed to fail. It’s Malfoy for Merlin’s sake …”

It was in this moment that you decided to hex everyone who had something to say about Draco.

Your friends peppered you with questions. Ginny was particularly curious about where you spent the night but you stayed silent, trying to appease her with vague explanations about an accident that sent Draco into the Hospital wing. Whether she believed it or not – she stopped asking after a while. It was really none of her business, you felt. Draco wouldn’t want her to know. It was bad enough that Zabini and Nott knew. From what you could tell, they kept quiet though.

You didn’t see Draco for three days after you left the hospital wing that morning. After classes when you wanted to visit him, he was already gone. He didn’t show up to meals. But you noticed how Astoria always took a full plate of food with her. It bothered you. It left an ugly feeling behind whenever you saw her leaving the table like that. She shouldn’t be the one taking care of him. She hadn’t been there. You had. In fact, you were his girlfriend …

Fake girlfriend, you corrected yourself.

At night, you barely got any sleep. You stared at the ceiling in the darkness for hours, thinking about that evening in the Slytherin bathroom. Feelings of worry alternated with the frustration that he put you in the situation. But were you really frustrated with him? Or were you upset at yourself, at how much it shook you to the core?

Why?, you kept asking yourself. Why do I care so much? How did I end up here?

He was a friend, a dear friend, and you’d do anything for your friends. A lot of them had gone through hard times as well and you were always there for them. But this? It felt different. Not once, even when they were at their lowest, did you feel this scared. So helpless and angry at yourself that you couldn’t do anything.

Fix me.

The words had stayed with you. Together with the pain when they were spoken. You couldn’t. The only thing you could do was be there for him when he fixed himself – and shockingly, you wanted to do exactly that. In fact, you wanted to do more than that. You wanted to be the one that brings him his food when he’s feeling too weak to go to meals and you wanted to hug him and tell him over and over again that nothing about him was wrong. That he could change and he could get through this. He was strong enough. You knew it.

Is this what friendship is supposed to feel like?

***

You sat in the Room of Requirements when he walked in.

It was the same room you had been in two weeks ago when you looked for Christmas presents. A small fire crackled in the fireplace and you sat on the couch with a warm blanket and your favorite book.

“Hi,” Draco said simply.

Surprised, you looked up from your book. You hadn’t expected him to come here. “How did you find me?”, you asked.

Draco gave a half shrug. “You weren’t in the library and your friends said, you wanted to be alone for a while. So I figured.”

He looked a lot better than three days ago. He wore his usual black suit again and his hair was flawless. Not a single strand was out of place. But the exhaustion was still visible on him and his posture seemed a little too stiff as stood in the doorway.

“Who did you ask?”, you wanted to know. Scooting over, you gestured him to take a seat next to you.

“Granger.”

A low chuckle escaped your lips.

“And yes,” he continued as he sat down. “It was just as awkward as you imagine it right now.”

You snorted. “Well, I appreciate the effort.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. You didn’t know what to say. Hey, remember when you had that panic attack and hid from me for three days? Yeah. Probably not. Besides, you couldn’t be mad that he wanted to be alone. You didn’t blame him for it. It was understandable and you weren’t entitled to his attention. However, it still hurt.

“I have to apologize again”, he began.

With a sigh, you put the book on the small coffee table in front of the sofa. “You already did that,” you said. “It’s okay.”

Draco rubbed over his neck. He didn’t apologize very often apparently, judging by his discomfort. “No, for … the past days.”

A smile appeared on your lips. “It’s fine. You had … people in your house who took care of you.”

Draco shot you a glance, knowing well what you were referring to. “I didn’t want her to.”

You immediately felt dumb and insensitive. Merlin, why would you say this to him. “Draco…no,” you groaned. “No, this wasn’t what I meant. I feel stupid, urgh.”

“I –”, he started but you cut him off.

“Do not apologize. You’re going through a hard time. Obviously,” you shook your head. Then your voice became a little softer: “I understand that and I just want you to become better. I can’t believe I somehow made that about me, I’m sorry.”

He smiled at you. “Don’t be. It’s confusing for all of us.”

You nodded and leaned back against the couch. A few days ago, you would’ve touched him in some little way. Now there was a distance between you. It made you wonder if what happened changed the dynamic between the two of you. “So, how are you?”, you broke the silence.

He shrugged again and looked into the fire. “How are you?”

“I’m okay. I was worried about you.”

“I’m supposed to see a therapist now.”

A rush of happiness made your eyes lit up at his sentence. “Yeah … that was my idea.”

“Really?”, he turned to and a small smirk played around the corners of his lips. You were so relieved to see it. “Well, sounds like you.”

You chuckled. “Did you already see them?”

He shook his head. “Tomorrow. It wasn’t easy to find one. It’s not that common in our world.”

Even though he was right, you were surprised by how fast McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey started looking for one. Maybe they finally realized how important it was for the students to actually deal with their traumas and not just take sleeping potions.

“Well, I’m glad,” you announced.

“Let’s see how it goes. Father used to make fun of them a lot,” his eyes flickered to fire again and his voice changed as he remembered. “He said it was one of the reasons why the muggles are so weak. They can’t even deal with their own life.”

What a load of bullshit, you thought and wondered if his mother shared those opinions. She must have. How else would a woman survive a marriage with a man like that. You stayed silent though.

Draco looked at you again. “Thank you.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “For what?”

“Being there,” he explained. “You didn’t have to.”

“I’m your girlfriend, aren’t I?”, you joked.

“I mean … not really though,” he smirked again. There it was – that little stinging near your heart. You ignored it.

“True,” you replied. “Still, you’re my friend.”

Draco nodded. He leaned back against the sofa and by the way he stretched out his leg, you could tell he was starting to feel more relaxed now. “What I said to you … what I want you to do …”, he cleared his throat while fidgeting with the hem of the blanket. “I overreacted. I … don’t expect you to …”

He had trailed off but you knew what he was trying to say. “I’m happy to hear that,” you admitted softly. Then you reached for his hand. “I will be here and support you for as long as you let me, Draco. Please know that.”

Draco looked at your entangled hands and then back at you. “Thank you.” His eyes met yours and for some reason, you couldn’t look away. You were mesmerized by them and they reminded you of a storm in the middle of November while …

“Well,” you loudly announced and broke the eye contact. “It’s getting too fluffy in here.”

Draco laughed softly. It was a low sound that resonated within you.

“Can I see it?”, you suddenly asked before you could think about it.

He furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

“The wound,” you pointed at his arm. “Or is it still bandaged?”

“No, but … she managed to heal it,” he nervously licked over his lips. “There are no … residues.”

“What about the mark?” It was probably too straightforward. But you didn’t care as you had already seen it once now in a worse situation.

“Still there,” his gaze lingered on his arm as if he saw right through the black jacket. “Didn’t work, I suppose.”

“Can I see it?”

Draco’s head snapped in your direction. “Y/N …”

You just looked at him calmly. His eyes darted back and forth between his arm and you and you practically saw how he thought about all the options he had right now. Did he trust you enough for this? If not, why didn’t he after he allowed you to see him in his most vulnerable moment?

With a sigh, he suddenly got up and out of his jacket. He threw it on the armchair, before he began to roll up his sleeve and sat back down, holding the arm your direction. You leaned forward.

There it was. A huge, black memory of a life that was no longer his. The constant reminder of the pain and suffering that followed the Mark wherever it was seen. It stood in sharp contrast to his skin, just as you remembered. Now, however, you were able to see the whole thing. The wound was almost completely gone, only a little redness remained. You wondered how it must have felt when they burned it on his skin.

Without thinking about it, you raised a hand and touched it. Draco shuddered and his arm twitched. You looked up at him, wondering if it hurt. It didn’t seem that way. At least not physically. His eyes were fixated on the pillow and you noticed the way he clenched his jaw. Turning your attention back on the mark, you began to trace the outlines of it with your finger.

„I always thought it would feel … different,” you mumbled. Then you looked up at him again. You saw how he tried to blink away tears and once again, your heart broke. “We’ll be okay, Draco.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I know.”


	12. Healing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post this yesterday, sorry! I fell asleep on the couch early lol. The chapter is a little slower buuut there's quite some action happening in the next 2 chapters and also: Draco deserves a break. As always: I live for your comments <3 Thank you so much, loves! You all mean the world to me!

_He’s just feeling a little down._

That’s what Blaise or Theo said when someone asked about Draco. When they wanted to know why he hadn’t left their room for three days now and when they wondered why he skipped meals again.

_You know how it is._

Five words followed by a sigh and everyone understood. They all knew how it was. Most of them had probably gone through a similar episode at least once. When the Slytherins heard that sentence, they mostly nodded with a sympathetic look on their face and backed off. It effectively stopped them from asking any more questions. Well, most of them. Pansy and the Greengrass sisters were more than just worried about their friend and kept pressing on about what happened. However, to their frustration, Theo and Blaise didn’t budge.

After being discharged from the hospital, Draco went to his room. He changed into a pair of pajamas, laid down – and that was it. He slept a lot during the three days but didn’t seem to find any rest. He was being followed by wild dreams which caused him to wake up multiple times, sweaty and with a beating heart that almost jumped out of his chest. Theo got his sleeping medicine after the first day and it helped a little – at least during the night.

During the day, the nightmares came alive in a much more horrid way. He could barely recall the events in the bathroom, it was all a blur. Yet, he remembered the way he felt. Fear and pain and shame, all mixed together. You were there, holding him, turning pale at the sight of his mark and looking at it with disgust. There were tears rolling down your cheeks and he was left wondering if he had lost you.

You, the only good thing in his life at this moment.

Draco didn’t look at his wound once during the three days. He wore a bandage. It itched occasionally, reminding him of what he had tried to do. It didn’t work. Nothing would ever work. The mark would stay there until the day he died and probably even in his afterlife. It would be a constant reminder of his failure. Hate filled him when he thought of it.

“You have a visitor,” Theo said on the first night.

Draco sat up, thinking for some stupid reason that it was you. His heart started beating faster and he looked at Theo with panic in his eyes. “I can’t see her like this.”

Theo frowned and needed a second to understand. “Oh no,” he shook his head and smiled sadly. “It’s Astoria. She brought you dinner.”

Disappointment caused Draco to look down, his cheeks burning red. Of course. There was no reason you would want to see him. Not after you realized how weak he truly was.

Astoria walked inside, a bright smile on her face. She cheerfully started chattering and it irritated Draco. Later, Theo admitted to him that he instructed Astoria to not ask him anything about what happened. She tried to spark a conservation but Draco stayed quiet, his eyes fixated on the ceiling, only nodding occasionally. He didn’t listen to her and truly, he didn’t care what she had to say. She wasn’t the one he wanted to see.

The next day, Astoria talked a little less, sensing that Draco wouldn’t reply. She was right. By lunch on the second day, she simply put the plate on his nightstand and left the room again. Draco thanked Merlin for it.

“You have to get out of bed, man,” Blaise announced on the morning of the third day, just before he left for class.

“I’m not feeling great,” Draco answered and yawned.

“I know, Dray,” his friend sighed. “But this isn’t a solution. Have you changed your clothes once in the past days?”

“Or showered?”, Theo added as he came out of the bathroom.

He could answer both questions with a definite ‘no’. Draco crinkled his nose when he realized this. Even during the war, when he was at his lowest, he was always groomed and well-dressed. _It’s important_ , his mother used to say. _It keeps you from losing touch with the world around you._

“Go take a shower and then go to Madame Pomfrey to let her check out your wound,” Blaise decided when he didn’t get an answer from Draco. “And talk to Y/N.”

“No.”

“Yes, Draco. You have to talk to her.”

“You don’t understand.”

Blaise groaned. “I don’t understand a lot of things, apparently.”

“True,” Draco mumbled, not caring if his friend had heard him.

“Right,” Blaise scoffed. “Talk to her. The longer you wait, the harder it’ll be.”

Then the door fell shut and Draco was alone again.

***

After much tossing and turning, followed by a lot of cursing – Draco admitted that Blaise was right. Sulking in bed and hiding from his problems wasn’t a permanent solution and this wasn’t the way a Malfoy should behave. He could only imagine what his mother would say to if she saw him like that.

His mother … she had written to him two times in the past days. The school had notified her, telling her about the incident. He hadn’t read the letters yet. They remained unopened on the small table and just looking at them filled him with guilt and sorrow. She worried about him, he was sure of that. She had always worried about him and it had only gotten worse in the last three years. There was nothing more important in Narzissas life than Dracos well-being. He knew that and it made him feel even more remorseful. Nonetheless, he decided that writing to her would be the first step to get out there.

After a long shower, a shave and a change of clothes, Draco hated Blaise a little less for getting him out of bed. He sat down on the table and started writing. It was a long letter, detailing not what he did to himself but rather how his friends and classmates took care of him. How attentive the teachers and Madame Pomfrey were – and that he would be fine. Eventually.

***

“It looks very good,” Madame Pomfrey stated after she had examined the almost completely healed up wound. Draco flinched every time she touched the mark, keeping his eyes locked on the black fabric of his pants.

“Rub this on your skin twice a day,” she continued and handed him a jar filled with a red ointment before she turned around to throw away the used bandage. Draco took it and stuffed it in his bag. When he was about to roll down his sleeve, he suddenly hesitated. He bit his lip, unsure whether to ask the healer the burning question on his mind.

“Madame Pomfrey?”

“Yes, dear,” she sat down behind her table.

Draco stared at the mark on his arm before raising his head to meet her gaze. Who else could he ask, after all? “Is there anything … anything I can do about this?”

Madame Pomfrey looked at the tattoo for a moment. Draco resisted the urge to cover it up. “You are not the first one to ask,” she finally said in a soft undertone. “All over the country, healers are being contacted with the same issue,” she sighed and folded her hands. “I’m afraid, however, there’s nothing we can do.”

Draco had expected that answer. He looked down to the ground, pressing his lips together tightly.

“I’m sorry,” Madame Pomfrey sympathized. “It’s black magic, so deep and evil … finding an antidote is almost impossible.”

He knew that as well. He even knew it back when they burned the mark onto his skin. “Right,” Draco cleared his throat and began to roll down his sleeve. “Well, then …”

“But,” the healer interrupted him. “We won’t stop trying. And I promise you, if I ever hear of something I’ll let you know.”

Draco nodded sadly. “Thank you, Madame Pomfrey.”

She leaned back against the chair, a serious expression on her face. “How are you then?”

Draco shrugged. She knew how he was. She saw his arm, didn’t she?

Another sigh from her side. Draco wondered if she was as uncomfortable as he was. “Mr. Malfoy”, she suddenly continued with a firm voice that made him look her in the eyes. “We have come to realize that a lot of students were left with deep wounds after the war.”

He snorted. “Well, that took you a while.”

Madame Pomfrey shot him a sharp look but continued calmly: “Wounds that cannot be treated with traditional medicine because they are not … physical.”

She paused briefly, giving him time to understand. _Oh._ “You mean we’re going crazy?”, he blurted out.

“No”, she shook her head. “You’re not going crazy. I do, however, believe that you are in need of psychological help.”

Draco scoffed.

“Do you disagree?”

Did he? He wasn’t certain. _Psychological help_ – he wasn’t even sure what that truly meant. He only ever heard about it when his family made fun about muggles, laughing at their weakness. “You sound like one of those muggle healers.”

Madame Pomfrey seemed to have expected that answer. “It’s not a common practice in our world”, she agreed. “But I feel it would be worth a try for you to meet with a professional to … talk.”

Draco thought for a bit. “I can talk to you”, he finally said.

A smile played around the corners of her mouth. “I had to admit to myself that this is not my area of expertise,” she replied. “However, we have found someone already and can arrange a session for tomorrow.”

Draco blinked. That was fast.

“Mr. Malfoy, I believe it would help you get better and prevent … prevent such incidents or worse.”

“Or worse?”, Draco frowned, not understanding what she meant. What happened had been a desperate attempt but he didn’t intentionally try to harm himself. He simply wanted to get rid of the tattoo. Was it dumb? Yes. Did he try to … Draco swallowed. “Do you think I tried to kill myself?”

“No, but …”

“I don’t want to die,” he said loudly but with a steady voice. It was the truth and Draco needed her to understand.

She did. “I’m glad to hear that,” Madame Pomfrey finally said.

“Good,” he nodded and let out a deep breath.

“What do you want then?"

The question took him by surprise. It was a good one. He didn’t have an answer to it yet. All he wanted was the confusion to be gone and the pain to stop. At least a little.

Madame Pomfrey saw his inner conflict by the way his eyes darted across the room. She smiled at him. “I think she can help you figure it out.”

***

The next big task on his agenda for today was finding you. It was something that turned out to be much harder than he expected. You weren’t in the Great Hall or the library or the Quidditch field. There weren’t many options left and he treaded the idea of going up to your common room and wait for someone to ask there.

Instead, Draco wandered to the Black Lake, hoping to see you among the students who were involved in snowball fights or walked along the waterside. No luck. Draco groaned. So common room it was, after all. Just when he turned around to go back up to the castle, he spotted someone else though. A head of brown locks and a laugh that belonged to no one else but Granger. Next to her, the boyfriend of the year – Weasel.

Draco hesitated. Should he …? No. No, he shouldn’t. But then again, asking your friends was the easiest way to find out where you were. So he tried to overcome his pride and before he could think of someone else, he shouted: “Granger!”

Grangers head snapped in his direction, eyes widening when she realized who called her.

“Wait a second,” he shouted and jogged the short distance between them to catch up.

“Look who got raised from the dead,” the weasel mocked and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “What the fuck do you want, Malfoy?!”

Draco didn’t even look at him. Weasley wasn’t worth it. Not today. “Have you seen Y/N?”, he directed his question at Granger.

“She’s probably hiding from you,” the red-haired Gryffindor snickered. “I know, I would.”

“Ronald, please,” Granger shot him a warning glance. Then she looked back at Draco. “No, I haven’t. She just said she wanted to be alone for a bit.”

 _Alone for a bit._ Draco knew right away where you were.

***

Coming back to his dorm in the evening, Draco felt a lot better compared to this morning. He was relieved that talking to you went the way it did. He hadn’t lost you and that was all that counted for him in this moment.

Draco had stayed with you for a few more hours. You didn’t talk much and got back to reading your book. He had leaned against the couch with his eyes closed, listening to the cackling of fire and the turning of pages. After a while, you stretched out your legs, putting them on his lap. Draco had smiled. Nothing much had changed. You were there. He’d be okay.

When he got undressed and looked at his mark, he could still feel the way you had traced your fingers over his skin. A shiver ran down his spine. You had been so gentle and unafraid. How could you be like that?

For the first time since the Dark Lord burned the mark onto his skin, Draco raised his hand and … touched it. His heart rate was speeding up at the simple gesture that used to be so dangerous. Carefully, he let his fingers rest on the black color and then began to do the same thing you did; he traced over the outlines of it with his thumb. Draco was surprised by how it felt like … nothing. Like skin. It was just color underneath his skin, he realized. It might have been put there with dark magic but in the end it was nothing more than black color. His breath trembled when he breathed out.

He would be okay. Someday, maybe not today, but _someday –_ he would be okay. It was a promise Draco made to himself.

***

The days before Christmas were spent with therapy sessions and classes. Draco wasn’t sure what to think of the therapist. Sure, she was nice and asked him a lot of questions but he still felt awkward. Growing up, talking about feelings was something that was frowned upon by his father. Even though his mother tried to encourage Draco at times to talk to her more, he kept the things that bothered him to himself. It was easier this way. So sitting in front of a stranger, telling her his deepest darkest fears was something he had yet to get used to.

Draco wasn’t the only one who talked to her. In a matter of days, she was fully booked and sat together with students from early in the morning to late in the evening. Even though the profession was met with suspicion, people still wanted to try it out. Draco wondered how long she would stay in the school.

Whenever he had a little free time, he met up with you, going on long walks in the snow or studying together in the library. The tension between the two of you had resolved a little and you were able to talk to him like before. He understood that he had put you in an overwhelming situation and the feelings of shame still hadn’t left yet, but you were there. You wanted to be around him. He couldn’t put in words how happy it made him.

The two of you walked through the streets of Hogsmeade today, looking at the Christmas decorations in the windows after stopping in the Three Broomsticks for a mug of butterbeer. It was the week before Christmas Eve. Draco had agreed to celebrate the holidays with your family. You would introduce him as your boyfriend and even though he knew, that you weren’t actually a couple – they didn’t. They assumed they’d meet their little daughter’s boyfriend for the first time and they damn well knew about his past. For good reason, Draco was nervous.

“We aren’t celebrating Christmas at home this year,” you said in this moment.

Draco frowned. “Why?”

“My mother decided it’d be a good idea to renovate the house in December”, you replied as if that explained everything.

“And?”, Draco asked.

You looked at him quickly. “She’s not done yet.”

“Why not? That’s a doable task when you use magic.”

“Ha,” you snorted and shook your head. “You don’t know my mother. She’s a perfectionist.”

 _Fantastic,_ Draco thought. A perfectionist would probably to be the first one to approve of their daughter dating someone like him. “So where are we celebrating then?”

“In a hotel in London, I think”, you gave a half shrug. When you saw Draco’s expression change, you quickly added: “You’re invited, so no need to ask for the costs.”

Draco didn’t look at you. He kept his gaze on the street in front of him, wishing that you didn’t notice the flush creeping across his cheeks. He swallowed and then cleared his throat. “I can’t accept that. It’s too much.”

“Don’t worry,” you said softly. “Please, Draco. They invited you. It’s fine.”

Draco would rather spend the holidays with his grandparents than accepting alms from your family. Before he could decline though, you continued: “Just buy them a bottle of wine and they’ll be happy.”

He gritted his teeth. His ego screamed at him to back away but then again – it was just as impolite to bail one weekend before. His mother would scold him until New Year’s Eve. “Alright,” he finally said. “You have to tell me what wine they drink so I can buy the right one.”

You glanced at Draco from the side, smirking. “Are you nervous?”

He frowned. “What, why?”

“You want to make a good impression, don’t you?” The smirk changed into a grin.

“Obviously,” he scoffed. “I don’t want to spend three days with people who hate me. I get enough of that at school.”

You chuckled. “Right.”

He couldn’t do anything against the small smile that appeared on his face. He looked at you and enjoyed feeling completely and utterly content for a few moments. You were beautiful the way you smiled, wrapped into your Gryffindor scarf and with sparkling eyes and lips that trembled from the cold wind. For a second, he wondered how stunning you’d look in green. 

“Do you ever think about the kiss?”

The words tumbled over his tongue before he could think about them. He scolded himself and bit on his cheek. Why would you? It’s not like … it’s not like it meant anything. It happened when he wasn’t himself and the things he said … Well, Draco would be lying if he claimed to not think about his words every night. They had been true – all of them. However, he was relieved you never mentioned them again. And the kiss? Yes, he thought about it too. Wondering if it had happened under different circumstances, how you would have reacted. Would you have pushed him away as well? Or would it have been like at the beginning of this school year when you met in the storage room? Not that it would matter. Draco didn’t (want to) understand why he even kept imagining it.

“No.”

The answer hit him as if he had sprinted against a brick well. He let out a long breath he didn’t know he was holding in. _Oh._ Obviously.

“It happened in a moment of … you weren’t thinking clearly.” You looked at him; a hint of uncertainty in your eyes. “Do you?”

“No.” He shook his head slowly. What did he expect? And why did it hurt him?

You cleared your throat, burying your hands deeper in the pockets of your coat. “Okay. Great.”

“Great.”

There was an awkward pause between the two of you as you walked down the streets. The air around you had changed abruptly and it was irritating. You kept looking at Draco, chewing in your lip.

“Let’s go to Honeydukes,” you finally broke the silence. “I promised my father to bring him his favorite candy.”


	13. Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for taking so long! This week kicked my butt. But here it is! As always - thank you so much for your support! <33

You stood in front of the large mirror in the hotel room, looking at yourself and tucking on the long evening gown. Christmas was the one time your parents went all out and it was sort of a family tradition to get all dolled up and have dinner together. As a child, you used to love this. You’d spend the hours before dinner with your sister, trying on your mothers dresses, braiding eachothers hair and wearing lipstick that your mum would order you to wipe off as soon as she saw it.

As you became older, your sister and you grew apart. She started picking fights with your parents whenever she could, rebelling against everything they wanted her to do. So Christmas turned to you getting ready on your own and bracing yourself for the discussions that would start as soon as she appeared at dinner in jeans and an old shirt.

And now, she was gone.

You tilted your head, as you looked at yourself. The dress fit you perfectly and you didn’t understand the nervousness that made you bite your lip and fidget with the straps. Maybe the reason for it could be found in the fact that for the first time in two years, you weren’t alone with your parents at Christmas Eve. Or maybe it’s because you had to introduce Draco Malfoy of all people to them. After all, when you came home the day before, your parents avoided the topic of your relationship completely. They asked about school, about your plans for the holidays but not with one word did they mention his name. It was truly irritating and made you unsure of what to expect from tonight.

You sighed and glanced towards the clock on the nightstand in your small hotel room. It was time to go. Your parents would already wait downstairs in the restaurant.

***

The restaurant was crowded. It was one of London’s finest wizard hotels and you wondered how your parents managed to get a reservation so last minute – and you asked yourself why they chose such a public place. Shouldn’t they be embarrassed to be seen with a former Death Eater? You reminded yourself to ask your father after dinner.

Your parents sat on the table in the middle of the room, talking quietly. They rose when they saw you, smiling warmly.

“Darling,” your mother greeted you and hugged you tightly.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart,” your father kissed you on the cheek.

“Thank you, so do you,” you smile back at them. “Both of you.”

After you sat down, your eyes wandered across the restaurant. Soft Christmas music played in the background, waiters ran around taking orders and bringing food, children were laughing loudly alongside their parents. Everyone looked so happy and content. It was amazing what this time of year could do to people. Your heart ached and you wished for a little bit of that peace for your family tonight.

“He’s late.”

Alright, that wish probably wouldn’t come true.

“Honey,” your father said to your mother in a calm voice. She was staring at the door with her lips pressed together, while her fingers tapped on the table. _She’s nervous,_ you thought and couldn’t shake the smug feeling.

“He’s not, mum,” you replied finally. “We’re ten minutes early. He’s on time.”

“On time is late.”

You rolled your eyes.

Your father cleared his throat. „Well, I’m happy we get to meet him.”

You looked over at him. “Are you?”, you questioned.

He stared right back in your eyes, a serious expression on his face. “Yes, Y/N,” he said empathetically. “We are.”

“We never met that boyfriend of Alissa and we all know how that turned out,” your mother reminded the two of you. The bitterness in her voice was crystal clear.

Your father sighed. “Can we please not talk about this tonight? It’s a holiday.”

Your mother leaned back against the chair. The tapping on the table stopped as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It is, I’m sorry.”

For some reason, you didn’t trust her on this. Before you could say something else though, a man caught your attention from the corner of your eyes and caused you to turn your head.

Draco walked in. Your breath hitched at the sight of him and your cheeks grew hot when you realized it. Of course, you knew he was good-looking. However, you had never seen him like _this._ The perfectly styled white hair in sharp contrast to his black suit. Head held high, taking long strides and wearing a smirk on his lips that caused your heart to skip a beat.

_What were you thinking?!,_ you scolded yourself. He always looked good. There was nothing different about tonight. You simply noticed it for the first time. Truly noticed it.

„Y/N,” Draco had reached your table. You stood up and he put a hand on your waist, while kissing you softly on the cheek. “You look … stunning.”

When he pulled back, the spot where had touched you felt like it was on fire. _What was wrong with you?_ He was probably just playing his role exceptionally well this evening.

“You don’t look too bad either,” you replied and smiled at the Slytherin.

Your parents had gotten up as well, expectantly looking at the young man. Nervously, you unsuccessfully searched their faces for any signs of hostility.

Draco turned to your mother. “Mrs. Y/L/N, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he leaned down to plant a kiss on her hand. “I see where your daughter gets her beauty.”

_He’s born for this,_ you realized. If there was one thing Narcissa Malfoy did right, it was teaching him to speak to potential parents-in-law.

Even your mother blinked in surprise at the compliment and lowered her gaze for a moment. “Thank you, Mr. Malfoy.”

The smile was glued on Dracos face. “Call me Draco please,” he offered quickly, before facing your father who had watched him quietly until now. “Mr. Y/L/N, thank you for inviting me.”

He reached out for his hand. Your father grabbed it firmly, shaking it while putting his other hand on Dracos arm and looking directly into his eyes. “It was Y/N’s idea.”

Your eyes narrowed at the statement. He saw it and as if it reminded him that he promised his daughter to stay polite, he cleared his throat and added: “Well, it’s our pleasure. We’re glad to finally meet the boyfriend of our daughter.”

_We mastered the first hurdle,_ you thought when all of you sat down again. _Only three courses to go._

***

_Appetizers …_

The evening started with stiff small talk and a few jokes to lighten the mood. Everyone was reserved, not completely knowing what was expected of them. You talked about the hotel, the food, your parent’s work.

During the whole time, you kept looking over at Draco, relieved at how easily he seemed to handle the situation. He smiled politely, laughed at your fathers jokes and touched your hand from time to time. Such a good fake boyfriend.

“How is school then?”, your father suddenly asked him. “How are you coping? Y/N told us some people have trouble adjusting.”

Dracos eyes met yours and you realize that the question sounded as if you told your parents anything about the night in the bathroom. You squeezed his hand reassuringly. Draco nodded.

„I’m doing fine … considering the circumstances,” he said carefully. “We have a therapist now. It was Y/N’s idea.”

“We heard”, your mother chimed in. “She’s a smart one, our Y/N. Always coming up with the best ideas.”

You wished for a hole to open in the ground beneath you right now. “Mum, please …”

Draco smirked. “I agree with you completely.”

_Main course …_

“In only a few months, your time at Hogwarts will come to an end,” your father stated as the waiters brought the main course to the table a few minutes later. It looked delicious.

“Please, don’t remind me,” you groaned. “We haven’t had one Quidditch game so far but have to start studying for finals soon?! It’s ridiculous.”

He clicked his tongue. “I told you all these years to try out for the Quidditch team.”

“I know, I know, I should’ve listened.”

Your father chuckled. “You don’t know how happy these words make me.”

You took a first bite and just when you wanted to announce how incredibly tasty this was, your mother cleared her throat.

_Oh oh. Well, at least we lasted ‘till the main course._

Draco couldn’t have known what that sound meant. Growing up, it had been reserved for the times when you messed up and your mother – who already knew about it – tried to get you to admit your mistake.

_It took her long enough,_ you thought.

“Draco, what are your plans then?”, she asked sweetly.

Draco didn’t even flinch. “For?”

“After graduation,” she explained after swallowing down a piece of potato. “What will you do?”

“Mum, stop interrogating him,” you demanded.

She looked at you, an innocent smile still on her lips. “I’m not, Y/N. I’m simply interested in the man who’s dating the only daughter I have left.”

_Whops, there it was._

Your father groaned and you gritted your teeth.

“It’s fine,” Draco said in your direction before he turned back to your mother. “I’d be worried too, Mrs. Y/L/N.” He paused briefly. “Truth be told, I don’t know yet.”

Her brows furrowed and she tilted her head. “Oh? How come?”

Draco shrugged. “Well … there are a lot of options out there. I’m not sure how they apply to me though.”

“I see.” She nodded and took a sip of her drink before adding nonchalantly: “Y/N will become an Auror.”

“He knows, Mum,” you told her.

“She’ll be a great one, I’m sure of it,” Draco smiled at the both of you.

“Oh, me too,” your mother nodded. Then her eyes narrowed. “She always despised … evil.”

Oh Merlin, where was the hole? Your cheeks began to grow hot again and you stared down on your plate.

“She was raised well,” Draco replied calmly.

There was an awkward moment of silence. You lifted your head only to see your mother and Draco looking at each other with blank faces, waiting for the other to make the next move.

“Anyways,” you blurted out to break the silence. “When do you think will the renovations be finished, Mum?”

_Dessert …_

The almost visible tension in the air disappeared after you and your father joined forces to change the topic. It was rather successful and by the time dessert was served, you were laughing about an inside joke with Draco. When he threw his head back, eyes sparkling with joy, you couldn’t help but think again how gorgeous this man was.

_What was wrong with you tonight?_

„We know your father.“

_Fuck_. Your smile dropped and your head snapped in your mothers direction. “Mum!”

“Not tonight, we talked about this!” This was your father, laying his hand on her arm as he mumbles the words.

Draco froze while lifting his fork with the piece of cake on it. He didn’t meet her eyes. „Oh.“

Your father looked at him apologetically. „I used to work with him briefly.”

“In the ministry?”, Draco wanted to know.

He nodded.

“And also from school right?”, you almost bursted out when you saw how your mum opened her mouth. “You were in the same house, right?”

Again, your father nodded. “Yes, but Lucius was a few years younger. I hardly had any contact with him.”

Dracos eyes widened. “You’re a Slytherin, Sir?”

The corners of his mouth twitched slightly. “I am. Surprised?”

“A little,” your fake boyfriend admitted.

Your father tried to answer but this time, the voice of your mother was louder. “We also know him from a different encounter.”

Your father sighed and he stroked over her arm. “We encountered the Malfoys quite a few times, honey. It happens in our small world.”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

Nervousness began to spread inside of you. You took a sip from your drink as you watched your parents staring at each other. “Dad?”, you asked.

He didn’t look at you. “It’s not important.”

“I don’t agree,” her voice was cold. “Tell them.”

“No.”

Draco squeezed your hand and you glanced at him. He was pale and you wondered if he knew what they’re talking about.

“We met him almost two years ago,” your mother continued. “In the Manor.”

_Wait, what?!_ When have they ever been to Malfoy Manor? Your parents didn’t run in the same circles as the Malfoys, especially not two years ago. You raised your eyebrows in confusion.

Draco swallowed. “Right.”

“Mum, please”, you lowered your voice. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”, she retorted. “I’m just telling a story.”

You sighed.

“After Alissa … did what she did,” she continued, “we looked everywhere for her. Rumour had it, all the important Death Eater meetings were happening at your home.”

Draco scraped with his fork over the small plate.

“The rumors were true,” your mother shrugged. “Although we didn’t find Alissa.”

Silence. You waited for her to add on to that but nothing happened. She had lowered her gaze and an all too familiar sadness appeared on her face. No one said anything.

Was she being serious right now?

“And?,” you exploded. “Is that all? What the hell, Mum?!”

She flinched but didn’t look up. Her next question was more of a whisper. “Are you wearing the Mark?”

“Merlin, what the fuck!”, you cursed.

“Stop it!”, your father finally intervened and threw his napkin on the table. “Right now! And Y/N, watch your language!”

“Yes.”

One simple word and yet it managed to shut everyone up. They snapped their heads in his direction, eyes widening. Your father tensed up.

“You want to see it?”

“Draco!”, you exclaimed in shock.

“Rhetorical question, don’t worry,” he smirked at you but you saw the hurt in his eyes. It made you furious.

“Have _you_ seen it?”, your mother asked you and you wondered if there’d be fume coming out of her ears any second now. You didn’t answer but it was all the proof she nodded. “You should be ashamed of it,” she spat out and looked at Draco.

“Enough!”, your father demanded sharply.

“I live with the shame of my actions every day, Mrs. Y/L/N,” Draco sounded calm and collected, as if he had studied for this conversation. With horror you realized that he probably had.

“Sadly that won’t –”

“Let me finish, please,” he raised his hand to interrupt her, “I joined because He threatened to kill my entire family. I didn’t know what to do, so I followed Him. It’s not an excuse and it won’t undo what happened. I live with that every day and –”

“You still joined,” your mother said and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“He was sixteen, Mum!”

“Nearly an adult,” she replied.

“He was a boy,” your father hissed.

Your mother turned to him, raising her eyebrows. “Why are you taking his side?”

“I’m not. I need you to stop this nonsense,” he said firmly. “Honey, I know what you’re trying to do. I’m just as worried but –”

“Stop telling me what I can or what I can’t do!”, she hit on the table with the flat of her hand. The glasses rattled and it almost made you jump. “It doesn’t matter why he joined, the facts remain the same. He is a Death Eater.”

“Was!” Your heart had begun to beat faster in your chest and you felt the strong urge to protect him.

She scoffed. “Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater.”

Draco who had been quiet until now, suddenly let out a deep breath of air and put the napkin next to his plate.

„He probably knew Alissa,” your mother exclaimed. “They probably planned it together!”

“This is so insane, oh my god,” you groaned and buried your face in your hands.

You looked up again, when you felt how Draco stood up next to you. He spoke slowly: “Not once have I met your Alissa, Mrs. Y/L/N. Excuse me, but I think it’s best for me to leave now.” He nodded towards your father. “Thank you for the dinner, Mr. Y/L/N.”

“No, what?”, you got up as well and reached for his hand. He pulled away. This hurt.

“Wait, Draco –”, your father began.

“With all due respect, Sir, I understand your fear”, Draco interrupted him. “I’m happy to answer all your questions privately but I’m not going to listen to your insults. It’s Christmas.” And with that, he turned around and left. Dumbfounded, you watched him walk through the restaurant. The self-confidence with which he had entered just an hour earlier, was gone now.

Anger built up inside of you and you clenched your fists, as you turned around and shot angry looks at both of your parents. “Thank you, Mother.”

She didn’t seem phased by your reaction. Your mother shook her head as she watched Draco leave the room. “How can you do this to me?”

“Do what?!”

“Date someone like _him._ ”

You laughed – shrill and bitter. Your father flinched. Other people probably already turned their heads to stare at the scene unfolding in front of them but you really didn’t care. “I don’t believe this,” you scoffed.

“Y/N, we can talk about this,” your father tried to calm you down.

“No, dad,” you suddenly felt so tired as you wiped over your forehead. “Merry Christmas.”

***

The whole way up to the floor where the two of you had their rooms, you kept scolding yourself. You felt so bad for what had happened in the restaurant and why you didn’t see it coming. What made you think that they would react in a different way? They despised everything about the Malfoys. It was a stupid idea to invite him here. All you wanted was a nice and quiet Christmas for Draco. A few days where he can relax outside of school. And now it had turned into a disaster.

Draco stayed in Room 586. It was directly across from yours. When you reached it, your eyes kept flickering to your door. Maybe he wanted to be alone? You dreaded knocking on his door and seeing the hurt in his eyes all over again. Especially because it had been your fault this time.

However, you owed him an apology. The way your parents (well, mainly your mother) had reacted was totally unacceptable and unfair. He deserved better. So you braced yourself and took three deep breaths. One … two … three …

_Knock knock._

The door opened a few seconds later. Draco stood in front of you, he had gotten out of his shoes and jacket already. His tie hung loosely around his neck. He didn’t seem surprised to see you. „Hi.”

You smiled shyly at him. „May I come in?”

He opened the door wider and took a step aside. You walked into the room and hear the clicking sound of the closing door behind you. Nervously, you stand in the bedroom. It looked similar to yours – a huge bed, two nightstands, a table, a dresser, a mini fridge. (The latter was something the hotel owners “stole” from the muggles as they said. Although it ran on magic, not electricity.) Very plain for a hotel as expensive as this.

„Want something to drink?”, Draco asked as he walked past you and kneeled down in front of the small fridge.

You chuckled. „Did you loot the mini fridge?”

Draco grabbed what looked like the alcoholic version of two butterbeers. “Wanted to. After tonight, I definitely would have deserved it,” he shrugged. “Mother would kill me though. The hotel room is already so expensive.”

His words reminded you sharply why you were here. You licked over your lips. “You could’ve blamed me.”

He chuckled. “How would that look? I’m a Death Eater, not a coward.”

You snorted and reached for the butterbeer that he handed you. Then your expression became serious again. “I’m so sorry for what happened.” You meant every single word of that sentence and hoped desperately, that he would hear it.

“It’s fine.” Draco sat down on the bed and leaned against the headboard.

“No, it’s not,” you shook your head and took a place on the edge of the bed. “It was unfair and insulting. They shouldn’t have treated you this way.”

Draco didn’t reply. Instead, he took a sip of his drink.

You sighed and lowered your gaze. “She wasn’t always like that. She was so loving when we grew up.” When you looked up you noticed that he had raised his eyebrows. “I don’t mean to excuse her behavior,” you quickly added.

He took another sip of his drink and then the look in his eyes became softer. “My parents changed too,” he mumbled. “In different ways.”

You fidgeted with the hem of your dress. “Well, I’m sorry.”

This time, it was Draco who sighed. He shifted slightly and stretched out his legs. “I don’t want to think about it any longer. It’s fine. I should’ve expected it.”

“No, you shouldn’t have!”, you disagreed with him. “I thought … I thought maybe this time it would be different. Maybe if we had a guest, she would behave and that maybe she would give you a chance.”

There was a pause. After tonight, you wouldn’t have blamed him for leaving right away. Or for wanting to be alone at least. Especially after your half-assed apology.

“Our families are not so different after all, it seems,” he finally mumbled.

_He’s right_ , you thought.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated yourself. “I should’ve known better. I don’t know why I …”

Draco interrupted you before you were able to finish the sentence. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore, Y/N.”

The harshness in his voice stung a little – but you felt that for some reason he truly wasn’t mad at you. It lifted a weight of your shoulders even though the guilt and anger for your parents behavior remained.

You watched him. He drew patterns with his fingertips on his pillow, his eyes looking out the window at the London skyline. Right in this moment, you realized something important. He had shared so much pain with you and he began to feel better. Slowly, very slowly, but he began to heal. Maybe you needed to do the same. Maybe sharing a part of yourself would help. With this thought, another realization hit you: you could trust him.

“Do you want to know what happened with Alissa?”, you asked softly.

Draco stopped with the patterns on the pillow. “Do you want to talk about it?”, he raised an eyebrow.

“I … no. I don’t know.” You took a sip of your butterbeer. A part of you was scared of telling him.

“If it makes you feel any better, I kind of know what happened,” Draco said. “The Death Eaters talked about it for weeks.”

You snorted. “It doesn’t make me feel better.”

He chuckled.

You sighed and shifted positions to get more comfortable on the bed. “What did they say?”

Draco thought for a moment and you noticed how carefully he tried to word his next sentences. “She tried to … kill a bunch of muggleborn kids but failed.” He tilted his head. “That’s basically it. Even though she failed, she made a statement – and she was celebrated for it.”

You nodded and were not surprised by how uncomfortable you were when he described what she did. “She didn’t completely fail,” you corrected him. “One of the children is still in a coma.”

Draco cleared his throat. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Why did she do it?”

The one question that was on your mind since the day you received that letter from your parents. If only you knew. An explanation was all your family wanted. So far, nobody – and least of all her – had been able to give it to you.

“We don’t know,” you mumbled. When you continued, you raised your voice again. “Alissa is six years older than me. She … I always loved her but it’s not like we were best friends or anything. She was quiet but got along with everyone. When she was seventeen she met someone and … well, he was more radical.”

“She did it for him?”, Draco guessed.

You scoffed. “My mother likes to believe that. I don’t think so.”

“Hmm,” he nodded and tilted his head. “What do you think then?”

You shrugged. “She met him because of her interests. And the truth is, she had always been interested in Dark Magic. I remember her coming home one year over the holidays and finding a book in her room that … Merlin, I have no words. It was disturbing. It talked about how the Wizarding World was oppressed and how we purebloods are different from the muggleborns and that in order to restore our true power they should all be eliminated.”

“So normal dinner talk at Malfoy Manor.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his joke. It didn’t last long however. “I don’t know, to be honest. I described it in a very soft way. The book used slurs I have never even heard of before and the language was just so disturbing …”, you trailed off.

“Did you tell your parents about it?”, Draco asked.

“No,” you shook your head. “Never. I should have but I was scared.” Until this day, you blamed yourself for it. Maybe it would have helped. Maybe if your parents knew that side of her earlier, things would have turned out differently. “It happened when Alissa started being less … happy, I guess. She was always mad. My parents blamed it on her age but there was more behind it.”

“And then she met her boyfriend.”

“Exactly,” you began to peel at the label of the bottle. “She distanced herself from us more and more and finally joined the Death Eaters at the end of year five … so your year six.”

Draco swallowed at the memory of that particular school year. “And then?”

“I don’t know. Next thing I know is us receiving news of what she did to those poor kids.” The label was almost peeled off completely now. “She tried to poison them through their food. It was a shelter for muggleborn kids, you know. They could go there if they didn’t feel safe at Hogwarts or at home anymore. It was horrible.”

“I can imagine.”

You looked up at his words, believing them right away.

“Luckily, a woman noticed the weird looking vegetables and intervened quickly,” you continued. “Only two kids had eaten them at that point. My sister was still in the building in case anything went wrong. When she saw that she failed, she lost it. Or so they said. She started fighting with them and … Anyways, when the Aurors came she started screaming that she will come back again and again until the whole city is cleansed. Hence the name. _The Cleansing of Edinburgh_.”

There was a brief pause. The label from the bottle was laying on the blanket now. Then Draco leaned forward and took your hand. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You smiled sadly at him. “Don’t be.”

“What happened to the kids?”, he wanted to know. “One of them is in a coma and the other?”

“They saved him. He’s fine now.” You still remember how relieved you felt when you got the message. You had cried from joy and so did your parents.

“Thank Merlin,” Draco whispered.

“Right.” The bottle of butterbeer was empty by now and you sat up to put it on the nightstand. Draco let go of your hand as well and leaned against the headboard again.

“What I still don’t understand,” he began and you looked at him. “You come from a family that taught tolerance and love, or am I wrong?”

“You’re not.”

“How did your sister ends up like that?”

“We keep asking ourselves that.”

***

You stayed with Draco for hours. Talking about your sister and your families and it felt so good for you to get it off your chest. You had talked to Ginny about your sister before – but this was different. Draco understood this part of your life better than anyone else. With every confession, every secret around your sister that you told him, your heart began to feel a little lighter. Obviously, one talk wouldn’t fix anything. However, you were grateful that you had found someone like him to share this with.

When more bottles of butterbeer were emptied, the topics became lighter. After a while, there was laughter heard in the hotel room and the undertone of the stories changed. You enjoyed being here together and you were happy when Draco announced that he wasn’t leaving. He’d stay with your family for Christmas and try to give them a second chance. You prayed to every muggle god there was that tomorrow would be different for your parents.

It was late in the night when you woke up. You hadn’t even noticed that the two you had fallen asleep. A yawn escaped your mouth as you sat up groggily. Draco was next to you, his chest rising and falling peacefully.

You watched the Slytherin for a few moments and something happened – your heart began to beat a little faster. However, you had no explanation for it this time. There was no reason now for fear or anger or nervousness.

_Do you sometimes think about the kiss?_

He had asked you this a few days prior. The question took you off-guard then. _No,_ had been your answer. A lie. To this day, you thought about the kiss. Hell, you still thought about the kiss from the beginning of the school year. But it happened in a moment where Draco didn’t think clearly and it felt wrong to think that it was anything more than sadness and desperation clouding his desperation. He had been vulnerable and so you said ‘No’. It was the only acceptable answer.

However, it was still a lie. You wondered if the kiss would have happened if the circumstances had been different. Maybe in the library after you dropped a book and you reached for it at the same time and got closer? Maybe after a Quidditch game after you won and ran into his arms? Maybe …

Did it matter though? _Should_ it matter?

You shook your head and forced yourself to look away. It was late. You needed to go back to your room and get some sleep. Besides, you were still wearing the dress and it became more and more uncomfortable with every passing second.

Carefully, you got up. Not carefully enough. Draco moved slightly and his eyes fluttered open.

“Shh, go back to sleep,” you whispered.

“Where are you going?”, he mumbled sleepily.

“To my room,” you smiled at him. “Good night, Draco.”

His eyes fell shut again and he turned around. You tiptoed to the door. Just when you placed your hand on the doorknob, ready to leave, you turned around. He was dead asleep already, you were sure of it. He wouldn’t hear your next words. You had to get them out. It wasn’t fair to him when he was awake – no, you didn’t want to put him in an uncomfortable situation. After all, this whole relationship of yours was based on lies to the outside world.

“The answer would have been different if the kiss didn’t happen in that situation.”

***

Ten minutes later, you had gotten out of your clothes and into a more comfortable bathrobe. You were feeling tired and exhausted, excited for a good night sleep in the big hotel bed. You stepped out of the bathroom and reached for the belt on your robe when …

_Knock knock._

You frowned. It was two thirty in the morning, who could that be? Draco, you realized. Who else. Did you forget something in his room? Wondering why he was awake, you reached for the doorknob.

„What is it?“

The Slytherin stood in the dark hallway, running his fingers through his hair when you opened the door. He stared at you, an unknown expression in his eyes. A shiver ran down your spine by the way he let his gaze linger on you.

„I heard what you said.”

Oh.

_Oh no._

Your eyes widened in shock. How did that happen? He had been barely awake when you spoke to him in the bed and then at the door you were so sure he was already sleeping again. “Oh Merlin, I’m so sorry,” you stuttered, cheeks becoming hot. “That’s … I’m so embarrassed, I – why are you here?”

He still had that look in his eyes that caused you to swallow hardly. He lifted one hand and leaned against the doorframe.

“To change the situation?”


	14. Reality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: shameless smut. lol. If you feel uncomfortable reading it, you can read until the first "***". Then scroll down until you see the next "***". The texts there are safe and clean and relevant to the plot. I'm excited for you to read it! As always - thank you for commenting and giving me kudos. Ilysm! <3

“To change the situation.”

You blinked. Slowly, very slowly, did you begin to process the four words and their meaning, your mouth suddenly feeling very dry. You suppressed the urge to lick over your lips.

The Slytherin didn’t look insecure or nervous. No, his grey eyes suddenly seemed to be a few shades darker (or maybe it was just the dim light in the hall?). His gaze bored into yours, right into your soul. It was impossible to escape and caused you to swallow. His lips were parted slightly as he leaned against the doorframe. He was still wearing his shirt from dinner and the tie hung loosely from his neck.

Draco waited for your reply.

Seeing him like this, you realized that you weren’t the slightest bit surprised that he had knocked on your door. Even though you had refused to believe for weeks that something could ever happen between the two you, it had never been a question of “if”. It had always been “when”. And apparently, “when” was tonight.

“Y/N?”

Your name rolled off his tongue like honey; his voice was low and husky. A shiver ran down your spine.

 _This is wrong,_ the thought crossed your mind. All the acting and pretending, the soft touches in hallways and classrooms that were born out of lies, the moments of vulnerability the two of you shared – it had clouded your judgment. It made you believe that there was something between the two you. _This isn’t real._

But … maybe you didn’t need it to be real. Because ‘real’ meant heartbreak and loss and pain and both of you had experienced enough of that for a lifetime. Maybe, just for a little while, you wanted exactly _this._ A dream, a fantasy, magic that would vanish as soon as you stepped foot in Hogwarts again.

You didn’t need ‘real’. Not tonight.

You blinked again. Draco still waited for an answer. Then you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and when he saw the look in your eyes, his mouth twitched, fighting the smirk. _So this was Draco Malfoy_ , you thought, _the one who caused even Gryffindors hearts to flutter._

When you spoke, your voice was low and steady:

“Change it then.”

***

Now, Draco didn’t hide the smirk anymore. There was a sparkle in his eyes as he took a step forward. You didn’t back away, keeping your gaze fixated on him. He rested his hand on your hip and only the thin fabric of your robe separated him from your skin. It made your heart beat faster and your breath started to tremble.

His pupils were dilated now and the smirk widened when he noticed how you reacted to him. Draco closed the door behind him with his foot and you swallowed when it fell shut. It was only dimly lit in the small hotel room and suddenly you realized – _this was happening._

“Tell me to leave and I will,” Draco must have seen your eyes flickering towards the door.

You shook your head. “I don’t want you to leave.” It was the truth. There was nothing in this world that could possibly made you want him to go right now.

_You didn’t need this to be real. Not tonight._

“Good,” Draco whispered, his voice hoarse. His fingers tightened on your hips and you drew a sharp breath of air when he suddenly pushed you against the wall. He chuckled at your reaction.

“Stop being so cocky, Malfoy,” you hissed to which he only grinned. He was so close now, so damn close – the smell of mint and his cologne made you feel dizzy. It reminded you of the night in the storage room and you licked over your lips absently. Your eyes dropped towards his lips. Draco simply looked at you. _Why didn’t he do anything? What took him so long?_ Frustration began to dwell up inside you as the tension around you was now so thick, you could probably cut right through it with a kitchen knife.

“Damnit, Malfoy,” you groaned. Without thinking about it any longer, you leaned forward and kissed him.

_Finally._

It was the third kiss the two of you shared – but the first one that happened solely because the two of you wanted it. Right now. In that moment. In the years before you knew Draco personally, you had often wondered why so many girls felt drawn towards him and couldn’t stop gushing about the mean Slytherin. Now, that you felt his lips on yours, the answer seemed crystal clear.

The kiss was rough and demanding. You pulled him even closer by his tie, as he pressed you up against the wall. You could feel every inch of his body against yours and your breath hitched. One of his hands found its way to your hair, grabbing it tightly as his tongue slipped in your mouth. He was possessive and leading and just the way you expected him to be.

You moaned softly and the grip in your hair tightened. He whispered your name and began kissing down your neck, sucking on the soft skin. A heavy sigh escaped your lips but then you hit against his shoulders when you noticed that it would probably leave marks in the mornings. He cursed under his breath.

“I want to touch you,” he mumbled.

Instead of a reply, you take his hand and lead it towards the belt of the robe. Draco understood and with a quick movement, your robe was open.

_“Fuck, Y/N.”_

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his reaction. “Well … I just had a shower.”

The first time with a new person, letting them see you naked, it was nothing that came easily to you. Normally. However, you were amazed at how Draco managed to make you feel like the most beautiful woman on earth by the way he gazed at your body with nothing but admiration in his eyes.

Draco groaned and leaned forward again, pulling you into another kiss. Your lips moved against his and soon his hands started to travel up and down your body, his fingertips softly exploring your delicate skin. You gasped when he shifted. He kissed your neck and collarbone, wandering further down.

You moaned and let your head rest against the wall, eyes closed. You buried your hand in his blond hair and felt him smiling against your skin, when another sound escaped your mouth.

“Bed,” you whispered. Suddenly this wasn’t enough anymore. You wanted to feel his skin too. You craved to touch it, kiss it, needed to explore every inch of it. Draco made no effort to stop what he was currently doing and so with more force (and frustration), you repeated yourself: “Bed. Now.”

Finally, he moved. With messy hair and a smirk on his lips, he licked over them, before taking your hand and pulling you towards the bed. Between hasty kisses and longing touches, the robe fell to the ground on the way; his shirt and tie followed quickly. Draco pushed you onto the covers and followed quickly behind. You weren’t sure whether it was the cold metal from his belt or the way he bit your lip that caused you to buckle your hips. He groaned and now you could feel _him_ against your thighs and it made your mouth water.

The moments that followed were a blur. His lips on yours, hands all over your bodies in the desperate attempt to be even closer to the other. You couldn’t tell if you stayed like this for seconds, minutes or hours. Eventually, you grabbed his belt, opening it, letting out soft whimpers as he bit and sucked on your skin. When the pants finally freed his cock, the sight of it made you shudder. It was hard and dripping for you and you reached for it, enclosing it, slowly moving your hand up and down.

Draco’s eyes fluttered shut and his breath quickened. A tingling sensation appeared in your lower body when he gripped the sheets. You watched him with pure lust and your hands moved faster with every stroke, until he suddenly groaned. “Stop, wait.” He took your hand and put it above your head, staring at you with dark eyes. “Tease,” he mumbled and your insides twirled at the sound of his voice.

“I need you,” it burst out of you and to emphasize your words, you pressed your hips up against him.

Draco smirked. “You’ll have me. Soon.” Your eyes widened when he suddenly moved down again after getting rid of his remaining clothes. He didn’t take it slow, didn’t tease you – in one second you felt his hot breath on your sensitive skin and then there was nothing but his tongue.

“ _Fuck!”,_ you cursed loudly and let your head fall back against the pillow. More curses left your mouth as he let his tongue circle over your clit. Looking back, you didn’t know what he did. Whatever it was though – he was _amazing_ at it. Pleasure took over you, making you forget the world and everything around you. There was only Draco and the way he grabbed your thighs. You moaned loudly as the heat in your body grew stronger and then a wave of pure bliss hit you. With his name on your lips, you came, hips buckling up, tearing at the white sheets of the bed.

Draco didn’t give you time to ride out your orgasm. Before you knew what was happening, he came up and slipped inside of you. You clenched your muscles around his shaft, gasping in surprise. He stretched you so far, it bordered on pain – and yet it felt so delicious; every fiber of your body wanted him.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Draco moaned breathlessly.

You pulled him in for another kiss, swallowing more curses from his lips. The moment he started moving, another wave of pleasure overcomes you and it was almost too much to take. The two of you panted heavily, groans from him and whimpers from you filling the dark hotel room.

Suddenly Draco slowed down his pace. It was torture and your hips bucked up, begging him not to stop. When you opened your eyes, he watched you with an almost sheepish smile and you giggled when you realized why he wasn’t moving faster.

“You drive me crazy,” he admitted.

“I want you so much,” you replied simply and the smile on his face vanished. He began to thrust into you faster again.

It didn’t take long and the familiar heat started arousing in your body again. Spots appeared in front of your eyes. You scratched his back and he moaned.

“Oh _fuck,_ ”, he panted and you all of a sudden, you felt him lose all control. Every thrust was harder than the one before as he fucked you closer to the edge.

“I’m … I’m …,” you didn’t get anything more out.

“Come for me, beautiful,” Draco panted – and you did as he said. Repeating his name over and over again, your legs started shaking and then you come all over his cock, muscles clenching around him. You clung unto him desperately, pleasure taking over your body and mind and then you hear him moaning your name as he followed shortly after, cursing and releasing himself inside of you.

He collapsed on top of you and you could feel him panting against the soft skin of your breasts. Your breath trembled as the last waves of the orgasm passed and you softly stroked his hair, eyes closed and a satisfied smile on your face.

***

The two of you remained like this for a few more minutes – it was precious, laying like this. Nothing but complete happiness filled your bodies and souls as you listened to one anothers heartbeats.

When he felt too heavy on top of you, you softly pushed against his shoulders. He sat up slowly and – oh, he was a sight for all the muggle gods out there. A content smile on his face, messy hair, red and swollen lips – you suppressed the urge to pull him down for a kiss. Never in your wildest dreams would you have guessed that you’d ever see Draco Malfoy like this.

You reached over to the nightstand for your wand and with a simple flick, the both of you were clean again. Then you got up, planting a soft kiss on his lips and disappearing into the bathroom. When you came back, Draco still sat on the edge of the bed.

He looked at you and for the first time tonight, you saw a hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

“Everything okay?”, you asked with a smile.

He nodded. “Can I … May I sleep here tonight?”

You chuckled. “As if I’d let you go after _that.”_

And then the uncertainty on his eyes was gone and replaced with the all too familiar smirk. You shook your head in disbelief. Your legs were still a bit shaky from when he made you come. _Twice._ Fuck, where did he learn that?!

You slipped back under the covers and scooted over to make room for Draco. The Slytherin came up from behind, putting an arm around you and pulling you close. By the time, your head hit the pillow, your eyes were already heavy with sleep and you had trouble keeping them open.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he whispered against your hair.

“Mhhh,” you made, already half dreaming. “Good night, Draco.”

“Good night.”

***

The night was peaceful and calm. For the first time in months, you didn’t dream. There was just blackness surrounding you, making you wonder if you ever had a sleep that good. You woke up when it was almost time for lunch. Sunbeams were shining directly on your face and you groaned in frustration when you turned away from the windows.

A chuckle caused your eyes to flutter open.

Draco Malfoy sat next to you, leaning against the headboard, shirtless and with a book of yours in his hands. He watched you from the corners of his eyes. Suddenly you were wide awake and the events from last night came rushing back to you.

Oh.

_Oh, Merlin._

That actually happened, you realized. You slept … with Draco Malfoy. Oh, fuck. _I don’t need it to be real,_ you remembered your thoughts from last night. Well, damnit, now it was real and you had to deal with it. How did you even come up with this bullshit?

“Good morning,” Draco said and lowered the book.

“Morning,” you replied and propped yourself up on your elbow. “What time is it?”, you asked and yawned.

“Way too late for breakfast,” he replied.

You sighed and rubbed over your eyes. “You’re already awake.”

“Mhh,” he nodded. “Not long though. Don’t know about you but I had an _excellent_ sleep.” The innuendo in his voice, caused your cheeks to grow hot. You lowered your gaze.

“Y/N?”

You looked up and saw Draco frown. “Is something wrong?” He paused briefly. “Do you regret what happened?”

Did you? No. No, the night was beautiful and, fuck, you’d give everything to experience it again. Everything. But … you knew, it couldn’t be.

“No,” you shook your head. “It just makes everything so much more complicated.”

He thought for a moment. “Does it though?”

“Doesn’t it?”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t have to.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Sex doesn’t have to mean anything if we don’t want it to,” he stated.

Oh. He was right. Then why did it hurt to hear him say that? You sighed and let yourself fall back into your pillow. “Okay,” you finally mumbled. “Okay, let’s just forget this. It was a one-time thing.”

“Yeah,” Draco cleared his throat. Was it just your imagination or did he sound a little hurt by that as well? But why would he? After all, it was his idea in the first place. “Consider it your Christmas present.”

You snorted at his words and playfully hit his shoulders. “What the fuck, Malfoy.”

He chuckled and you too laughed a little. “But I mean … honestly, who taught you?”

“Excuse me?”, Draco asked and raised his eyebrow.

“You heard me,” you grinned.

Draco started laughing again, before he answered: “I guess, Daphne. Mostly.”

“Greengrass?”

“Yes.”

You stared at him in disbelief. “Does Astoria know?”

He nodded.

Your eyes widened. What the hell was going on in that Slytherin common room?! “Well, at least it stays in the family.”

“Oh, shut up, Y/L/N,” Draco exclaimed and rolled his eyes. He couldn’t hide the smile on his face though.

You giggled. “Make me.”

“With pleasure,” Draco replied and threw the book away. In the next second, he was on top of you.

The kiss that followed was soft and gentle. So different to the ones you shared in the night before and yet just as beautiful. You smiled when he pulled away. “Why don’t we stay in bed today?”

Draco cupped your cheek with one hand and you leaned into the touch. “It’s Christmas. Won’t your parents miss us?”, he pondered.

“Nah”, you shook your head, “It’ll be enough if we show up for dinner.”

To your confusion, he didn’t react the way you hoped. Instead, he furrowed his brows. “And you think it’s a good idea?”

You sighed and carefully thought about your next words. “Well … let’s make it a two-time thing.”

“Or three.”

“You’re awfully confident.”

Both of you started to laugh again. It was so beautiful seeing him like this. He seemed like a completely different person and you for a second you wished that you’d meet him like this sooner.

“So, we’ll deal with the confusion later?”, he suddenly asked, all serious now.

“What confusion?”, you tilted your head and ran your fingers through his hair. “We’re … releasing tension, so to speak. I don’t know. But you said it doesn’t have to mean anything and so, when we’re back in school, it’ll all be forgotten.”

_Hopefully._

For a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes. An emotion you were unable to identify. Then Draco blinked and it was gone. “Right,” he whispered. “I said that.” With that, he leaned down again and all your confusion and doubts were drowned out by the feeling of his lips against yours.

You didn’t need it to be real. Not today.


	15. Fireworks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay! I was sick these past few days so I took a break from writing. That's why I didn't post it during the weekend. I hope you like the new chapter though <33

Whispers in a dark room, soft touches, kisses all over your bodies; a laugh so bright and full of life, it made his heart ache. Clothes on the floor, candles lit on the nightstand, your perfume lingering in the air. The way, he ran his fingers through your air; the sound of your heartbeat underneath your skin.

Draco’s mind kept wandering back to the moments in the hotel room. Every fiber of his body wanted to go back, wanted to feel close to you again. He hadn’t realized how starved he was for human connection until your lips found his.

“Draco!”

Draco flinched and almost dropped his knife, when his mother called his name sharply. Narzissa Malfoy sat across the table, sending him a warning look.

“I’m sorry, Mother,” he mumbled. “I was …”

“Dreaming,” she finished his sentence. “You’ve been distracted all day, Draco. It’s impolite to our guests.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Narzissa,” Mrs. Greengrass chirped. “Astoria is just as quiet today. Who can blame them, really? They don’t care about our gossip.” When she laughed, Draco noticed that her eyes grew so small, they were hardly visible anymore. It made him wonder where her daughters got their beauty from. It certainly didn’t come from their mother.

He looked to his side where Astoria absently stared at her table. She had barely touched the food yet. Something seemed to bother her.

Narzissa had invited Mrs. Greengrass and Astoria for lunch today. “Just to catch up,” she had said to her son. However, he knew that wasn’t the full truth. His mother was worried. Very worried.

In the beginning, she had believed dating a Gryffindor was just an excuse for Draco. A way to postpone the engagement a little longer. Those games happened more often than anyone would like to admit but she knew quite a few similar stories. However, after the holidays and after seeing him for the first time since the school year started – she had noticed something. A change in him. Small and tiny, like a daisy trying to grow in the cracks of old pavement, but it was there. And it kept on growing.

Draco had smiled when he came home – and when Narzissa asked him about you, there was a spark in his eyes and happiness in his voice. It left her wondering if the whole relationship thing wasn’t an excuse after all.

Narzissa wanted Draco to be happy, of course. He was her only son, her pride and joy, the love of her life. He had to endure so much pain and suffering in his young life and a lot of it was undoubtedly caused by her husband and herself. A fact that broke her heart and filled her with guilt, every time she looked at Draco. So what kind of mother would she be if she didn’t wish for Draco to find his way back to life and for him to be with someone who offered him the peace and stability he so desperately craved?

However … she was still a Malfoy – and a Black. And your family? Despite being Purebloods and also quite comfortable in their ways of living, they were _different._ She had experienced this first hand when they came to the Manor two years ago, demanding to know the whereabouts of their other daughter. No, after the scene that unfolded that afternoon, Narzissa highly doubted that a union of their families would bring anything other than chaos. It would be as if Draco tried to marry into the Weasley family. Not at all suitable for a man from his background.

But a marriage with a Greengrass? In Narzissas mind, it would be truly perfect. They had so many similarities – growing up in the same circles, living in the same Hogwarts house, sharing friends and values. _Perfect_ , Narzissa had thought when Mrs. Greengrass asked her about a potential engagement between their children. And in a very self-centered way, she also realized that this would get her family back their former reputation. It would mean money and status and another chance at the life she had lost after the war. Draco just needed to marry Astoria. It wasn’t too much to ask. After all, Narzissa didn’t love Lucius when they got engaged – the feelings grew over time. Surely, it would be the same for Draco and she was certain that he would be happy with Astoria. There was nothing wrong with arranged marriages – they were practiced among pureblood families for centuries. So why break that tradition now, in a moment, where the Malfoys needed it the most?

When Draco came home after Christmas and spoke about you, Narzissa knew instantly that it was time to act. He didn’t realize it yet, but Narzissa saw it – if she didn’t put a stop to it now, Draco would soon know that his feelings succeeded the ones of a teenage crush. Under no circumstances could he find out, that what he felt – under all the confusion – was love. Luckily (at least for her in this exact moment), her son was an expert at swallowing down his true feelings and pushing others away. So there was still hope for Narzissa. He simply needed to spend more time with Astoria to realize that the future of his family was more important than you.

As a start, she had invited Mrs. Greengrass and Astoria over for lunch. Afterwards, Narzissa planned on going on a long walk with Mrs. Greengrass, leaving their children alone together. Now, she looked at the faces of the two of them, bored and distracted, and decided that maybe sooner would be better than later.

“How about,” she turned to Mrs. Greengrass, “we go for a walk and let these two catch up.”

Draco frowned. “We’re not done eating yet. Isn’t there des –”

„It’s alright, I’m not that hungry,” Mrs. Greengrass interrupted him. She had picked up on Narzissas undertone. The two women stood up, gracefully as always, and smiled at their children.

“You spent the whole morning talking about how you looked forward to this lunch, mum,” Astoria pointed out, barely hiding her annoyance.

Her mother laughed. “Nonsense, honey.” She put her hand to her daughter’s cheek. “Have fun, you two.”

When the door fell shut behind their mothers, Draco snorted and shook his head. Astoria stayed quiet. Her eyes were back on the plate. She still hadn’t touched the food.

“You don’t like it?”, Draco asked.

“Would you be offended if I said no?”, she asked dryly.

“Slighty,” he raised an eyebrow, “mainly because I know from first-hand experience that our house elves cook better than yours.”

“Right,” she scoffed. “Because for everything the Greengrasses have to offer, you find something better.”

Draco stopped his fork right in front of his mouth. Lowering it, he turned to look at her. “That took a conversational left turn.”

The black-haired woman simply stared at her plate, clenching her teeth.

Draco sighed. He sensed where this was going. “Just say it, Astoria.”

Finally, she reacted. With a little too much force, she slammed her fork down. “I said it,” she tried to keep her voice calm and steady. “Time and time again. Quite frankly, I’m tired of repeating myself.”

“Is this about Y/N again?”

“No!”, she spat. All gone was the attempt of acting calm. “Not everything is about that –”

“Careful,” Draco warned her and leaned back against the chair.

She raised her hand but then took a deep breath. “Not everything is about her.”

He waited for Astoria to keep talking – but she didn’t. Oh, how tired he was of having the same discussions with her all over again. “Then what’s your problem today?”

“You’re an asshole,” she snarled.

He shrugged. It was probably true.

Astoria shifted in her seat and for the first time, since they had sat down to eat, did she look at him. He saw the anger and frustration in her eyes.

“Why don’t you want to marry me?”, she asked.

The question – and the confidence she asked it with – took him off guard. Draco frowned. “What?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s clear that you don’t. I’m asking you why.”

_Because I don’t want to end up like my parents,_ was the first thought that popped in his head. It surprised him. He loved his parents and had spent most of his life looking up to them – but the thought of entering the same lives as they did over twenty years ago … It scared him. A young marriage to someone he didn’t love, being surrounded by people like them, raising kids in an environment as hateful and strict as the one he grew up in … He didn’t want that.

_It wouldn’t be that way with you._

He swallowed at the new thought, wondering where it came from. Well, obviously, spending so much time with you in a literal “What if?”-scenario, would give him all sorts of ideas. Yet, he couldn’t help but think that whoever you chose to spend a life with – you’d be different. The family you started would be different. Your house would be filled with love and laughter and you’d adore and support your family no matter what. He just knew.

As if Astoria had read his mind, she suddenly asked: “What can she offer you that I can’t?”

_Everything. And nothing at all._

Draco was irritated at the wording. “Offer me?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “What can she and her family offer you –”

“She doesn’t _offer_ me anything,” he clarified. “Neither does her family. She or you are not something I can buy.”

Astoria groaned and threw her head back. “Oh, Merlin, don’t go all Gryffindor-feminist on me. You know what I mean.”

He did. But he wasn’t keen on explaining to the young Greengrass why he preferred to spend his time with a Gryffindor over her. “I’m not planning on marrying her anytime soon, Astoria,” he said instead, a lot softer now.

“Great,” the sarcasm was dripping from Astorias voice. “Then we can get engaged.”

Draco let out a long breath. “No.”

She crossed her hands in front of her chest. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to,” he burst out. Merlin, why couldn’t she just leave him alone?!

“Why not?”

He wiped his hand over his eyes, suddenly feeling tired and exhausted. “Because I don’t have feelings for you.”

There was a brief moment of silence in which Astoria simply looked at him. Then suddenly the corners of her mouth began to twitch. Before he knew what was happening, she started laughing. It was loud and shrill. “Oh, Draco, that’s adorable,” she managed to get out. “Do you think _I_ have feelings for you?”

Confused, he blinked.

The smile on her face vanished. “You know damn well that marriages in our circles are rarely about feelings.”

Draco shrugged. “Well, they should be.”

“What happened to you, Malfoy? Seriously.”

Again, there was this awkward pause between the two Slytherins. Resentment and frustration hung in the air and Draco wished for his mother to come back right this moment. Looking at Astoria however, a girl so proud and ambitious most of the time, another thought entered his mind. He had wondered about this a few times already.

“I don’t get it,” Draco began. “There are probably dozens of men who would love to marry you. Hell, even Blaise or Theo would say yes to an engagement. Why are you so set on marrying me? Especially if there are no feelings involved?”

Her eyes flickered away. She shifted uncomfortably. “We grew up together, I think you’d be a good fit.”

Draco scoffed. “Yeah, right, and Jesus was a muggle.” He didn’t believe her one bit. “Spill it, Astoria. All I have done for the past months is embarrassing you. Why do you want to marry me so badly?”

She pressed her lips together.

“Are your parents forcing you?”, he continued. “I honestly doubt that your father is thrilled about having me as his son-in-law.”

Astoria rolled her eyes at him. “They’re not.”

“Then what is it?”

Silence. She wouldn’t look at him but this behavior only sparked his curiosity even more.

When she spoke again, her voice was unusually quiet. Almost timid. “I just don’t know what you see in her. She’s not like us.”

_That’s exactly it,_ Draco thought. He didn’t say it though. Instead, he leaned forward and reached for her hand. He stroked over it in a calming manner with his thumb. “Astoria, we’ve been friends for so long now. Just tell me –”

Quickly, she pulled away. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

***

_New Year’s Eve …_

Draco stood in front of the huge windows, overlooking the dark gardens of the Greengrass estate. It smelled heavily of flowers from all over the world in the greenhouse. The scent would have probably given him a headache if he hadn’t already finished a glass of firewhiskey. In the distance, he could see the lights coming from the big mansion. He saw silhouettes of the guests and wondered if they were really having a good time or if they were just pretending. Like he was.

After returning from the walk, Mrs. Greengrass had announced that Narzissa and Draco needed to join them for the night to celebrate the New Year together. He saw how it hurt his mothers pride to be invited so last minute, however, she accepted with a smile. And now they were here. It wasn’t a big party, just a few of their closest friends. Still, too many people for Dracos taste and so he hid in here.

Looking out at the window, he wondered what you were doing tonight. Since getting back, neither of you had sent a letter. Two nights in the hotel, memories that caused shivers to run down his spine, and a promise that it would mean nothing. It left him unsure of what to do next. How were you spending the night? Were you at a party? Getting drunk with friends, maybe even sharing a kiss with someone when the clock turned twelve?

He gritted his teeth at the though. _Stop it,_ Draco reminded himself. _Stop getting attached. You’re not dating, she’s free to do as she pleases._

“We used to play Hide and Seek here,” a voice interrupted his thoughts. “With Daphne. Remember?”

Astoria. He didn’t need to turn around to recognize her voice. “I do,” he nodded, still looking out in the gardens. “You were so bad at it.”

She chuckled. “I know.”

Draco glanced at her. They hadn’t spoken since the lunch earlier today and he had suspected her to still be upset. When she smiled at him however, the smell of wine hit him. Well, this explained her mood.

“I loved this place,” Draco said, knowing it was best not to address her drunken state. He raised the glass of firewhiskey to his lips.

“I know. You fucked Daphne in here.”

The words caused him to choke on his drink. He coughed heavily when he felt the burning liquid running down his throat. With red cheeks and tears in his eyes from the sudden reaction of his body, he turned to face her.

Astoria wasn’t fazed at all. “Didn’t you?”, her voice cheery.

Draco stared at her.

“She told me,” Astoria continued. “Summer before your sixth year.”

“Why are we talking about this?”, he finally asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

She shrugged. “Just popped into my head when I saw you standing here.”

She said it so nonchalantly and looked out of the window – it confused Draco even more. Truthfully, he was also a little shocked by her choice of words. He never heard her talk like that. Never. Draco shook his head and took another sip of his drink.

“What did you see in her?”, she asked innocently.

“In your sister?”

“Yes,” Astoria nodded.

He shook his head again. “Astoria, you’re drunk.”

“No, tell me,” she demanded with more force now and looked at him. Her cheeks were rosy and the hair messy as if she had spent the last hour dancing.

“Nothing, I –,” Draco groaned. “It was a summer fling. We barely dated.”

“But what did you see in her?”, Astoria repeated herself. “You choose everyone but me.”

Oh.

Here we go again. She looked at Draco and for the first time, he noticed something. Maybe it was a product of the alcohol or maybe it was truly because of him: she was hurt. Gone was all the pride and anger. Only sadness and a hint of desperation was left in those jade-green eyes, as she stared up at him.

_Because of me?,_ Draco wondered. Was he the reason for her pain?

Astoria blinked and again, something changed. As if she tried to put on a mask, a smile appeared on her face. “Maybe you could see something in me if we just …” She made a step towards him. Draco backed away. Behind him were only the windows though.

“You’re drunk,” he stated again.

She giggled. “I’m just a little tipsy. It’s okay though …” Another step forward and suddenly she stumbled. Out of instinct, Draco put his arm around her waist to keep her from falling to the ground. She leaned against him now, pressing her petite body against his. He crinkled his nose when the smell of wine hit him again.

“Astoria … don’t,” he said softly.

She reached for the button on his shirt, clumsily trying to open it. Draco tensed up and she stopped. “Why not?”, she asked, tilting her head. In a sick way, it reminded him of the way you would look at him. The difference was, however, that he liked it when you did it.

He released his grip from her and carefully tried to get free of her fumbling hands. “Don’t, no, I can’t deal with this,” he mumbled and successfully took a step to the side.

Seeing her like this, it was a picture of misery. She cleared her throat, her hands shaking slightly. Draco wondered if she suppressed tears and the thought filled him with guilt. It made him choke up. So much guilt for so many things … he didn’t have room in his heart for anymore. He needed to get out of the greenhouse, he wanted to go home. No, not home. To Hogwarts. To you.

He reached for his tie. It was hard for him to breathe all of the sudden. Those fucking flowers, there was no air left for him. When he stumbled backwards, trying to get to the door, Astoria laughed. “Right because you can fuck everyone but me.”

“I ...”, Draco swallowed and right in this moment fireworks went off. Midnight. Outside, the sky was filled with bright colors. Red, orange, yellow, green. It was too much, too loud.

“Happy fucking New Year, Malfoy.”

***

“How much can you possibly fit in this book?”, Blaise asked.

Draco looked up at his question. “It’s not my first one.”

“Oh,” his friend made. “I thought it was a magic book or something.”

Draco shook his head before turning his attention back to the pages, filling them with what happened over the holidays. All the little details, he didn’t want to forget a single day. Well, except for the 31st of December maybe.

Draco, Blaise and Theo were currently sitting in a small section in the Hogwarts Express. They would reach Hogsmeade any minute now. It was snowing heavily outside, making Scotlands landscape resemble the one of a fairytale.

Draco was looking forward to returning to school. At home, he felt like he couldn’t breathe most of the time. Too many memories were left in the walls of the Mansion and seemed to haunt him whenever he wandered the now empty halls. If he were honest with himself, there was one more reason though. You. He’d see you again. For the first time since Christmas.

“I thought about starting one of those,” Theo suddenly admitted.

Draco looked up again, only slightly annoyed at the disturbance. He raised his eyebrows. “You were.”

His friend nodded.

“Why?”, Blaise asked.

Theo shrugged. “Seemed like a good idea. Besides, maybe it helps me get out of the therapy sessions.” He looked at Draco and added with a lot of sarcasm: “Thank your girlfriend for that, by the way.”

Draco rolled his eyes.

Blaise chuckled. “So, they’ve gotten to you.”

Theo nodded.

“It’s not that bad,” Draco said and added when he was met with doubting glances: “Just talk about what she wants and it’ll be over sooner than later.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem,” Theo replied. “What does she want to talk about with me?! I’m fine.”

“Are you?”, Draco asked but it was overheard when Blaise loudly announced: “Maybe she wants to talk about your messed up father.”

“Huh,” Theo made at that statement. He looked out of the window. Draco watched him and just before he could say something else, the train arrived in Hogsmeade. Theo got up abruptly, before they even stopped. “Well, anyways. Let’s go.”

“Hit a nerve there,” Blaise said quietly when Theo stepped out of their section.

Draco shrugged. He truly couldn’t tell how his friend felt. It wasn’t something they talked about, thanks to their Death Eater upbringing. Feelings were something you dealt with yourself and didn’t burden others with. However, he guessed that Theo wasn’t as happy as he pretended to be.

It was freezing cold outside. Thick snowflakes and an icy wind hit his face and Draco was mad at himself for forgetting to get out his scarf from his suitcase. They could hardly see anything and when someone hit them with a snowball, Blaise lost it and hexed a first grader.

“Missed detention so much?”, Draco snarled.

“He deserved it,” his friend replied and ignored the angry shouts of the first graders friends.

They arrived the carriages after what felt like an eternity. Did they magically lengthen the way to them? When Draco climbed inside, he sighed in relief. They were warm and cozy.

“Thank Merlin,” he mumbled and got out his wand to dry off the snow.

Theo and Blaise followed inside. Their eyes flickered only briefly to the Thestrals in front of the carriage. It had been quite a surprise for most of the students to come back in the beginning of the school year and see that the carriages weren’t driving by themselves after all.

Just when Draco made himself a little more comfortable and waited for the Thestrals to start making their way towards the castle, the door opened another time.

“Can I ride with you?”

You. Draco froze when he saw you, smiling at him nervously. You looked adorable in your Gryffindor attire – the hat pulled down over your ears, the red scarf tightly thrown around your neck. _Adorable?!,_ he asked himself. _What the hell, Draco._

“Sure,” Theo answered when Draco didn’t reply and changed his seat so that you could sit next to him.

“Thanks!” You climbed inside, lips trembling slightly from the cold outside. Just like he did, moments earlier, you sighed when you realized it was warm inside. You got rid of your hat and gloves, before looking at Draco again. “Hi.”

When Draco saw the smile on your face, it felt like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. It wasn’t awkward between the two of you. Nothing had changed. It would just be like the night never happened. “Hi,” he said.

“Nah, come on, Draco, don’t be shy,” Blaise rolled his eyes and Theo grinned. “Is that how you greet your girlfriend after a week apart?”

“Shut up,” he shot at them.

Looking back at you, there was a challenging look on your face. You had raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to act. He hadn’t expected it. However, he knew what you were thinking. He should probably kiss you. Just for the sake of keeping this charade alive.

Carefully, Draco leaned forward. _Just a quick kiss_ , he thought. He closed his eyes and then his lips met yours.

Fireworks.

The only description, he thought was fitting. Your lips touched only for a few seconds and yet something happened. A wave of memories hit him when he breathed in the smell of your shampoo. Suddenly, he was back in that hotel room and it was only the two of you. Almost out of instinct, he raised his hand to your cheeks and the once innocent kiss changed. He felt your hand gripping his shoulder tightly as you leaned in, desperate to get more.

It was Blaise who ended the kiss – with a click of his tongue, followed by a disgusted: “Okay, by Merlin, get a room, you two.”


	16. January

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is here! Just so you know - there will be 8-10 new chapters coming! Thank you so much for your feedback, loves <33

_January, week one …_

“Mum, stop it,” you groaned when your mother tugged at your hair, trying to make it look – at least in her eyes – more presentable.

“And please, write more often, honey,” she ignored your complaint and kept … well, you weren’t quite what she was doing with your hair. “Once every two weeks is not enough.”

When her hands wandered down to start tugging at your scarf, you had enough and took a step back. “Mum, ugh, stop! What are you doing?!”

You were currently standing at Platform 9 ¾ with your parents. Christmas break had ended and it was time to go back to Hogwarts. This year, however, it felt like your parents were particularly set on keeping you at home. You noticed that they weren’t the only ones acting strangely. There was a look of worry written over all of the adults faces – a feeling left behind from the year where sending the children off to Hogwarts was the most dangerous thing they could have done.

Your mother looked at you, a dreamy smile on her lips, and sighed. “It feels like yesterday when we dropped you off here the first time. Oh, how lovely you looked with your –”

“Alright, darling, the train will leave without Y/N if we keep her here any longer”, your father interrupted her softly. He was right. Most of the students had already boarded the train, waving at their parents through the windows.

“Come here, sweetheart.” He pulled you into a long hug.

“Bye, dad,” you mumbled into his chest. “Love you.”

“I love you too,” he replied.

When your father let go, you turned to face your mother. “And I’ll try to write more often.”

She smiled and leaned forward to kiss your cheek. “I’ll miss you … and don’t forget to give our thanks to that boyfriend of yours. We tried the wine yesterday. It’s good.”

You raised your eyebrows at her confession. Looking at your father, he nodded. “It’s excellent, sadly.” Well, that made you roll your eyes.

“Will do,” you replied. Just when you grabbed your bag and wanted to turn towards the train door, you stopped in your tracks. “Anything else you want me to tell him, Mum?”

She blinked. “No, why?”

You were certain that she knew damn well what you were referring to. After the disastrous Christmas Dinner, Draco had surprisingly decided to spend the remaining holiday with them. However, what happened was never mentioned again. No, in true pureblood fashion, your parents just acted like nothing ever happened. They were calm and polite – at least your father was. Your mother tried to avoid talking to Draco altogether. There had never been a time where you were more ashamed of them.

After Draco had left, the shame turned into anger and quickly escalated. A fight, so huge and loud your sister would have been proud, broke out. Accusations, curses and harsh words were shared and it ended only when you locked yourself in your room at New Years Eve and spent the night with tears instead of fireworks. If not for your father, you probably wouldn’t be speaking to your mother still. However, he convinced you to talk and eventually make up. Not that it changed your feelings towards their behavior.

You sighed and nodded. “Okay then. Bye!”

The smile returned to her face and the worried lines on your fathers forehead vanished. “Bye, honey!”, your parents called and you waved at them one last time.

You were one of the last students to enter the Hogwarts Express. The train was buzzing with emotions inside. Students were laughing and screaming, the younger ones crying as they watched their parents slowly disappear in the background. You dodged a few of them in the hallways, not shying away from punishing them with angry looks as they almost crashed into you more than once.

It took you a while to find any of your friends. Thanks to you arriving so late, almost all the sections were already filled. Luckily however, Hermione and Ginny sat alone. You opened the sliding door and let yourself fall onto the seat next to the Weasley girl as you greeted them with a warm smile.

“Where are your better halves?”, you asked.

“You sound like my grandfather when you speak like that,” Hermione replied with the todays version of The Daily Prophet on her lap.

Ginny and you snorted.

“Three sections in that direction,” Ginny then replied and pointed at the wall behind Hermione. “Sitting with Neville and Luna.”

It surprised you a little. But then again – they saw their girlfriends during (almost) the whole past two weeks. “Hmm,” you made.

“How was your Christmas?”, Hermione changed the topic.

She barely finished the sentence when memories flooded your mind – hands in your hair, lips on your body. The flickering lights on the London skyline dimly illuminating the hotel room as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. There was a familiar tingle in your lower stomach and you could almost smell his cologne.

You crossed your legs and cleared your throat. “Eventful.”

“I bet,” Ginny said. “Was introducing him to your parents as dramatic as I predicted it?”

You were relieved that she distracted you with another question. This was something you could talk about it. “Worse. He left the dinner early because my mother kept insulting him.”

Ginny chuckled. Her reaction made you frown. “Lovely,” she said. “Was she drunk?”

“Would that be an excuse?”

Hermione, who had picked up on your slightly changed tone of voice, intercepted: “So he just left and that was it?”

You leaned back against the seat and sighed. “No. He … stayed. And my parents never mentioned any of it again.”

Hermione huffed.

“I mean, can you blame them?”, Ginny then asked her.

_Oh, come on._ Your head snapped in her direction, feeling oddly protective of Draco. “Are you serious, Ginny?”

She raised her hands in a defensive manner. “I’m just saying.”

“I can understand where they’re coming from,” Hermione slowly said and you squinted your eyes. “But it’s not okay.”

You stared at her, wondering if this was worth a confrontation. However, you knew what your friends thought about him – and you had experienced way too many fights over the past few days. You were exhausted. So no. It was probably best to drop the topic completely.

“Let’s not talk about me,” you gave a dismissive wave with your left hand. “How was your Christmas?”

Ginny suddenly focused her attention on the window, watching the white landscape Scotlands. She shrugged.

“It was nice,” Hermione answered softly.

Ginny chuckled again. It sounded bitter this time. “You weren’t there on Christmas morning when my mum burst into tears and couldn’t stop sobbing for an hour.”

Oh. Of course. Even though you had never spent Christmas at their house, you knew Mrs. Weasley. A woman who loved her children with all her heart and would be willing to die for them. You couldn’t imagine how she felt after Fred was gone. No one should lose their kid in such a brutal way.

“I’m sorry,” you reached for her hand and pressed it.

“Yeah, I know,” Ginny mumbled.

***

The weather had definitely changed when you arrived in Hogsmeade. In London, it had been nice and mild with just a few snowflakes dancing towards the ground. Here, the weather resembled a snow storm. It was freezing cold, the sharp wind left you wondering if your nose would fall off if you stayed out here for just a few minutes later.

You cursed when you made your way towards the carriages, hardly being able to see Ginny and Hermione next to you. When you finally reached them, you felt the warm air when you opened the door but much to your disappointment, there was no space left for you.

Harry and Ron already sat inside. Ron didn’t even glance at you when Harry stuttered something about the fact that the seats were reserved for their girlfriends.

“Don’t be stupid,” Hermione argued. “It’ll fit if we squeeze a little. You can sit next to me, Y/N.”

You looked at the Weasley boy another time. He ignored you but the expression on his face told you all you needed to know. “No, it’s fine,” you took a step back from the carriage. “I’ll get the next one.”

“You sure?”, Ginny asked half-heartedly, probably guessing the reason for your hesitation.

You nodded and let the girls climb inside. When you walked away from the carriage, something happened. However, you only noticed it hours later, after you finished dinner and got ready for bed: you didn’t care about Ron and his reaction. There was no frustration, no anger, no nothing, found inside of you. You truly didn’t care about him.

The carriage behind theirs was full as well and with a groan, you trudged through the snow to the next one. When you looked inside, your heart stopped for a second.

Draco.

He sat inside, drying the snow off his clothes with a pouting look on his face and blue lips. You stared at him.

After he had left to go home, you were so busy with being mad at your parents that your brain had shut off all the anxiety that came with thinking about seeing him again. Seeing him after … those nights. All of it was flooding back now. He’d said it didn’t mean anything, you could just act like nothing happened. Could you though? Were you the type for one-night stands? Was he?

It took you months to establish a friendship and you could admit without shame that you cared about the proud, messed up Slytherin. What happened two weeks ago, could easily kill the bond the two of you had created. Fear crept up inside of you at the thought. You didn’t want to lose him. Of course, you were well aware that you’d lose at least part of the closeness when the whole fake dating thing ended. But you were sure that you’d stay friends afterwards. And until then, you didn’t want to lose him.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you noticed that Blaise had turned his head and spotted you. Instinctively, a smile appeared on your face as you pushed the door open.

_Fear doesn’t help me now,_ you thought. _It never does._

“May I ride with you?”

***

_January, week two …_

Nothing had changed between you and Draco.

At least that’s what you told yourself. The fake relationship carried on and it grew even more intense than before Christmas. When you weren’t at Quidditch training, you spent your time with him. After a few days, your friends started mocking you about it, claiming you would abandon them for a Slytherin. It made you feel guilty but being around Draco just felt too good. You enjoyed it too much and it was hard for you to find a balance.

Draco continued on with his therapy sessions, although he hardly mentioned them to you. Talking about personal issues didn’t come easy to him but you didn’t mind and didn’t pressure him. Instead you worked on school assignments together, talked about your friends, sometimes even your families. You shared stories of what happened behind closed doors in your houses. When you ran out of topics, you enjoyed sitting next to each other, immersed in books and enjoying the moments of peaceful tranquility.

You hadn’t lost him. Nothing had changed.

Well, almost nothing.

Quietly, an unfamiliar tension had begun to grow between the two of you. It unsettled you when the hug went on a little too long or his hand on your thigh burned through the fabric of your skirt. It mocked you when you noticed how you gazed at his lips when he told a story and reached for his hand when no one was around.

It scared you, leaving you feel ashamed to the point where you didn’t want to call yourself a Gryffindor anymore. You often wondered if he felt it too. If he did, he was amazing at hiding it.

“Are you still counting?”, Dracos voice brought you back to reality.

You kept your eyes on the cauldron in front of you. “Thirteen, fourteen,” you counted loudly and in a teasingly annoyed voice as you stirred the red liquid inside.

“Just checking,” he mumbled but kept looking at you through squinted eyes. Something bothered him.

“What is it?”, you asked, still counting in your head.

He didn’t reply.

“Spit it out, Malfoy.”

He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You’re too fast.”

“I’m not,” you protested. “I’m doing it exactly like Slughorn showed.”

He shook his head. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am!”

“No, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes and slowed down your movements.

Draco tilted his head. “Now you’re too slow.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Draco,” you groaned and started to stir faster again.

“No, you …,” he sighed. Before you could tell him to do it himself, he walked around the table and stood next to you. “I’ll show you.” He placed his hand on yours and began to carefully take over. Your eyes widened when you saw the liquid become darker. “See,” he said. “Now it’s right.”

“Oh.”

“Can I let go?”, he asked then.

You turned your head and held your breath when you noticed how close he was. His face was mere inches away from yours. The smell of his cologne gave you a flashback of the way he looked when he knocked on your hotel door. When his gaze wandered down to your lips, you licked over them absidently. His breath hitched.

“Sure,” you mumbled but he didn’t act. Instead he began to lean forward, eyes still fixated on your lips. You closed your eyes. Just a few more …

“Ouch!”, you suddenly screamed and jumped back from the table. Being lost in the moment, you had stopped stirring eventually and the liquid had started to bubble, rising to the top and touching your fingertips.

“Fuck!”, you cursed loudly and pressed your hand to your chest.

Professor Slughorn appeared behind Draco who reached for you with wide eyes, trying to see what happened. With a flick of his wand, the Professor stopped the potion from overflowing.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” he said when he turned around, a worried expression on his face, “are you okay? How did that happen?”

“Didn’t stir long enough,” you muttered with clenched teeth.

All the other students had stopped working on their assignment, curiously looking at the scene. Draco still examined your hand and the cooling touch of his brought at least some relief.

“She should go to Madame Pomfrey, Professor,” he said and looked up at the older man. He nodded in agreement, after taking glancing at your fingers. They were red and blisters began to form already.

“Well, then,” he said. “Mr. Malfoy, please bring Ms. Y/L/N to the hospital wing. You’re dismissed for the day.”

***

_January, week three …_

_~~Dear~~ _ _Y/N,_

_just a little something to calm your nerves before your first game._

_Obviously, I’ll be cheering for Slytherin officially but know that I think of you during the whole time. You’ll be great. I have no doubt in my mind._

_~~With~~ _

_Draco_

You chuckled and lowered the letter. Draco had secretly placed it in the bag with your Quidditch uniform, knowing you’d find it when you got ready. Inside the envelope was another piece of paper. When you opened it, a piece of hard candy fell out. With a smile on your lips, you noticed that it belonged to the candy that you bought him during the Hogsmeade weekend. Then your eyes landed on the drawing that came alive. It showed you, on a broomstick, scoring a goal and cheering. You chuckled a second time.

It was the first game this school year – and one of the more entertaining ones since it would be Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Those games almost always ended in injuries or fights and you already wondered who’d be the unlucky one this time.

You put the letter back in your bag and got up to join the others who were huddled around Ginny. She had just started giving you a few empowering words before the game. Everyone was equally nervous and excited and you couldn’t wait to finally get on the pitch. Months of practice left all of you aching for a real game. Cheers erupted when Ginny finished her speech and your hands felt damp all of the sudden. You wished your father was here to see you today.

Then the team started to make their way towards the pitch. You popped the piece of candy in your mouth, hoping that chewing it would calm you down a little.

***

The game was fast and _so much fucking fun._

Gryffindor was leading after fifteen minutes already which led to Zabini – team captain of the Slytherins – angrily shouting at his team members, trying to get them to remember their strategy. The students on the bleachers were cheering and singing, except for the Slytherins, and Luna Lovegoods hilarious commentary caused all of you to laugh more than once.

In the beginning your eyes wandered over the crowd of students, trying to spot his white blond hair. You did eventually. Draco sat on the bench, not cheering but watching you closely. He smiled at you when you flew by. Annoyed, you noticed that Astoria sat next to him.

However, Ginny made sure to keep you all in check. And so you were highly concentrated, chasing the quaffle, dodging bludgers and pissed off Slytherins on their broomsticks.

In front of you was Parkinson, pressing the quaffle tightly against herself as she flew towards the rings. Ginny appeared on your left side, shouting at you to go faster and trap her between you two. You nodded and leaned forward. The distance between you and Parkinson grew shorter. Ginny was on her left side, closing in. You did the same. The Slytherin tried to fly down to lose you but the two of you saw it coming and followed quickly.

Parkinson shot you an angry look as she made yet another evasive manoeuver. By doing so, she purposefully crashed into you with her broomstick.

This was the moment it happened.

Something got stuck in your throat. Well, not something. The piece of candy you were still chewing. Immediately, you went off course as you started coughing violently, gasping for air. Tears shot in your eyes and your vision went blurry. You stopped the broomstick midair, gagging. The candy was inside your breathing tube and didn’t move a bit.

Just when you thought you’d pass out …

BANG.

Pain shot through you when something hit your spine. Then everything went dark.

***

“So, she’s alive.”

You blinked in confusion when you slowly woke up from what felt like a long, yet unsatisfying slumber.

_What happened?_

You remembered only fragments. The Quidditch game, Parkinson … the candy and then something hit you. Irritated, you looked around. You were in the hospital wing, laying on one of the beds. It was only dimly lit by a few candles, meaning it was already evening. _Oh Merlin, how long was I out?_ , you asked yourself. When you wanted to prop yourself up on your elbows, another pain shot down your arm.

“Careful.” Next to the bed sat Draco in a chair. He had a book on his lap and his black journal underneath it.

“Ouch,” you hissed and let out a groan when you looked at the bandaged arm.

“Yes, that must have hurt,” Draco said and reached to prop the pillow up behind your back. Thankfully, you leaned against it but couldn’t hide the grimace when you felt the throbbing on your spine.

“What happened?”, you wanted to know.

“You pulled a Gryffindor.”

You frowned. “Excuse me?” Never had you heard this expression before.

Draco chuckled and shook his head. “Short version or long version?”, he asked with a more serious voice then.

“Short, please.” You didn’t think that your head could make sense of more than a few sentences in your current state of mind.

“Pansy crashed into you,” he began. “Then you started choking and a bludger hit you. It caused you to stop choking but you fell and broke your arm and foot.”

“Oh.” Only know did you see the bandage on your left foot.

“Hmm, it looked spectacular.”

“I bet,” you said sarcastically. When you looked over at Draco, he wore a smirk on his face but his eyes told a different story. You saw the worry and anxiety in them as he carefully watched every move of yours. His whole body was tensed up, ready to help you with anything you needed. It was weirdly touching.

You coughed. “Did we win though?”

Draco didn’t reply but his silence was answer enough. You groaned and closed your eyes for a moment.

“If it’s any consolation, Pansy got hit by a bludger too,” Draco said softly. When he saw you looking at the other beds, he added: “But she didn’t have to stay the night.”

You sighed and closed your eyes again.

“I’m happy you’re alright. It looked …”, his voice was nothing more than a whisper.

“Spectacular?”, you repeated his words from before.

“No,” he shook his head. “Dangerous. I was worried.”

He told the truth. You heard in the way his voice was so pressed as he tried hard to act strong. He didn’t fool you though. Not anymore. If you weren’t so tired, you would have smiled at him.

“Least you could do since it was your fault,” you mumbled.

Draco frowned and inched closer to you. “What?”

“I choked on the candy you gave me,” you explained.

“Oh,” he made, looking a little dumbfounded. “ _Oh._ Why did you chew it during the game?! That’s idiotic.”

You snorted. “Well, thanks, Draco.” As if you didn’t know that already.

“Sorry,” he quickly said but you didn’t hear it. Only know began the shame and embarrassment to settle in. Oh gods … this had been your first game _ever._ And you didn’t even last through the whole thing, falling of the damn broomstick because of a piece of candy. How could you ever face your friends again? Especially Ginny?!

“Ginny will kill me,” you groaned. “First game and I already screwed up.”

To your surprise, Draco gently shook his head. “She left ten minutes ago for dinner. She didn’t look angry. Just worried.” He paused. “All of us were.”

You sighed again. A part of you was happy hearing that but you were still dreading the thought of going back to the common room tomorrow. How goddamn embarrassing. Ron would never let you live that down.

“Besides, you were good,” Draco continued. “I was impressed.”

This time, you actually smiled. Not because of the compliment, but because of the fact that he tried to cheer you up in this moment. “Thanks.”

He smiled back and moved closer towards the bed with his chair, reaching for your healthy hand. For a few seconds, no one said anything. He stroked the palm of your hand with his thumb as you looked at each other.

“How long have you been here?”, you finally broke the silence.

“Since Madame Pomfrey finished treating you.”

Oh. “You must be hungry?”, you asked.

He shrugged. “Theo will bring me something.”

“This must be boring for you then.”

“It’s not. Wouldn’t be here if it were.”

Your cheeks began to feel hot and you lowered your gaze, admiring how he already managed to make you forget a little of the pain. “Thank you.”

“It’s fine,” Draco assured you. “Just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

You sat like this for a while. At some point, you motioned Draco to lay down beside you. The bed was small but his presence made you feel better. Feeling his warmth against your skin, calmed your aching muscles and limbs. After a while, your eyelids began to feel heavy again and soon you drifted off to sleep.

You weren’t sure how long you were out but when you woke up, Draco was still next to. One arm around your shoulders, the other holding his book. You listened to the sound of his breathing, looking at his long fingers as they drew circles on your skin.

“You sat next to Astoria.” The words just came out of you. A whisper, unsure if Draco had even heard them.

“I only had eyes for you.”

He heard them.

Suddenly, the atmosphere around you changed. You looked up at him. His gaze rested on you, his eyes portraying a mixture of emotions you weren’t able to read. Your breathing slowed down and with it the world around the two of you.

Staring into his grey eyes, completely peace and certainty filled your heart.

“May I …?”, he mumbled.

You didn’t let him finish. Leaning forward, you closed the distance between your lips in less than a second. He sighed instinctively and the grip around your shoulder tightened as he pulled you close. The kiss was soft and slow and loving. The kind you shared on a lazy Sunday morning after waking up together and deciding to spend the day in bed together. A kiss that left you not with butterflies but with the beautiful feeling of knowing you’re loved.

However, it left you with another feeling as well: more confusion. But your brain successfully shut those thoughts out; you could worry about them later.

The kiss would have carried on for so much longer but the uncomfortable position you were in, caused your spine to start hurting again. “Oh no, oh this hurts”, you breathed out sharply and pulled away.

“I bet,” he answered.

***

_January, week four …_

The night in the hospital wing changed everything.

You had hoped it wouldn’t. But it did. Draco stayed with you as long as he could before Madame Pomfrey kicked him out. He kissed you on last time before he walked away, leaving you utterly confused.

After that, the atmosphere changed. Your bones healed quickly thanks to the amazing work of the Madame Pomfrey, but your mind didn’t rest. It kept repeating the kiss, the night in the hotel, everything Draco had ever said to you. Every glance in your direction, every touch of your hand that caused the butterflies in your stomach.

Apparently you weren’t one for one-night-stands after all. At least not when he was involved.

Forgotten was the anxiety of seeing Ginny again. She wasn’t mad at you, thank Merlin, but even if she were – you didn’t care. All you could think about was the Slytherin and what would happen now. Back was the fear of losing him.

You spent less time together after the accident. Yet, each time you saw him, there was this tension between you. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on – the only thing you know that you wanted to kiss him again. Feel him again. Be close to him. But instead of doing that, you chose to stay apart.

Up until today at least. After your Transfiguration lesson, you couldn’t take it anymore. You had to talk to him. Clear the air, so to speak. Bravely, you made your way down to the dungeons. Luckily, you saw Theo entering the Slytherin common room just when you arrived. A little confused but not really caring, the Slytherin let you in and brought you up to their dorm.

It was a weird feeling, being back here. Last time, was when you found Draco in the bathroom, scared and hurt. Now, however, he was laying on his bed, writing in his black journal again. He didn’t wear his robes, only a white shirt and the pair of sweatpants you had caught him in once already. All the way back at the beginning of the school year, when you ran into him in the hospital wing in the middle of the night. It still surprised you that Draco owned clothes like that. He didn’t look up when Theo opened the door and closed it behind you again.

“I’m confused.”

Dracos head shot up when he heard the unsuspected voice. He sat up immediately and opened his mouth to ask something – probably how the hell you got in – but closed it again.

“About?”, he finally wanted to know.

You came closer, nervously touching the red tie around your neck. “Us.”

The confusion on his face only grew. He tilted his head. “What?”

“I’m confused about us, Draco,” you repeated yourself and came to halt in front of him. There was a moment of silence in which Draco only looked up at you, a little helpless, waiting for more explanation.

The words you said next came out stumbling: “You said it didn’t mean anything. Yet …”

“It means something,” he finished your sentence.

As if a weight was lifted from your shoulders, you let out a long breath of air and sat down next to him. So you weren’t crazy. “You noticed?”

He snorted. “You’re on my mind 24/7, it’s fucking annoying. I only think about …” Draco stopped himself.

Truth be told, you were a little shocked and surprised at the sudden honesty. You felt your heart beating in your throat. “Oh.” You swallowed. Did he … feel the same? Not that you were _feeling_ anything … you simply wanted him in a physical way. But did he feel that? “Okay, let’s talk about this then,” you began and folded your hands in your laps. “We’re young and …”

“Young adults,” he interrupted you.

You furrowed your brows. “Seriously?”

He shrugged. “Sounds better.”

“Alright then,” you rolled your eyes. “We’re _young adults_ who find each other attractive. Right?”

Draco nodded. “I guess.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” you stated.

“I guess not.”

You carefully thought about your next words. “It doesn’t mean anything more than that we have … physical urges. And needs.”

_By Merlin,_ you thought to yourself, _that was probably the worst thing you could have said._

Draco raised an eyebrow, probably thinking the same. “I guess.”

You quickly wanted to move on and reached for his hand. What you were about to say next, you had thought about for days. It wasn’t a good idea, probably. Most likely. It could lead to a lot more than heartbreak. But the urge of wanting to be close to him won over the fear of losing him.

“So why not fulfill these … needs together.”

Draco stared at you blankly. It made you feel insecure all of the sudden.

“No strings attached,” you quickly added. “We’re friends and we’re already faking a relationship. If someone were to catch us or see us kissing, they wouldn’t be surprised. No need to explain it to anyone. We can just mind our business and … have fun.”

While you spoke, Draco had turned his body towards you. His knees touched yours. His gaze lingered on you. The confusion was gone from his face; replaced by a hint of … _Was it excitement?,_ you wondered.

“I guess …,” he said slowly. “What do we do now?”

You leaned in more, not looking away. You parted your lips slightly. His grip on your hands grew stronger. “Guess,” you mumbled.

It was all he needed to hear. The corners of his mouth twitched before a smirk appeared on his lips. You replied with a knowing smile and then finally, fucking finally, Draco Malfoy kissed you.


	17. Magical

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So uni started again and that's why I took a little time off to focus on getting a good start at school again. But here's the new chapter! Hope you like it! Thank you all for your feedback on my last chapter, it means so much! <3

“Draco …”, you sighed softly when his lips wandered down your neck. “We’ll be late …”

“Hmm,” the tone vibrated against your skin and his hot breath caused a shiver to run down your spine.

“We should really go,” you whispered.

“In a minute,” he replied, his eyes closed as his lips searched for yours. They met and his hands found your hips, pressing his body up against yours. You gasped but the sound was drowned by him. The kiss became faster, his tongue slipping into your mouth. Your head was spinning and you felt light-headed as if you were high up on the clouds and not in an empty classroom in the dungeons of Hogwarts. The Slytherin seemed to have that effect on you and you already knew that the moment he pulled away, your body would be trembling, aching for more for him.

Draco’s fingers tugged at the hem of your shirt, pulling it out of your skirt until you felt his hands on your bare skin. This was the moment where your eyes fluttered open and you turned your head to the side, breaking the kiss. Turning back, he looked at you confused and out of breath. His usually perfect hair was messy, his lips red and puffy. The green and silver tie around hung loosely around his neck and the first buttons of his shirt were already opened, barely covering up the red lines of a hickey you’d given him.

You had done it to tease him, knowing how much he despised marks or blemishes on his body but it had only ended with him, pulling you in here and pressing you up against the cold stone wall. “Seems like I need to teach you a lesson,” he had grumbled, his eyes suddenly black as the night and your melted right then and there, trembling with excitement.

Now, he stared at you with a hunger in his eyes that made it clear to you, he wasn’t ready to leave yet. You, however, didn’t want to miss the announcement the Headmistress so mysteriously wanted to give tonight at supper.

“We only have around five or ten minutes to get there,” you repeated yourself. “Let’s go!”

He rolled his eyes and leaned forward, his forehead resting against yours. “Why do you want to go so badly?”, he asked. “The others can tell us later –”

“But I want to hear it. It sounded important.”

“Speaking from experience, most things our headmasters or headmistresses announce is less important than they think.”

You chuckled. “That’s your opinion. I’m also hungry.”

“Yeah, me too,” he replied and tilted his head again. Before he could press his lips against yours, he was stopped by your finger on his mouth.

You chuckled. “Draco.”

“Ugh,” he sighed dramatically and let go of you. “Fine…”

“Stop whining,” you laughed and reached down to grab the robe that he had pulled down your shoulders just minutes earlier. He only smirked at you.

The last two weeks were a blurr. You were drawn to one another, addicted, starving for each other. Lighting struck in your hearts with every whisper, every kiss, every touch. He never left your mind, all your thoughts circled around him. Around being close to him. Being with him. It was ridiculous how much your body longed to feel him against yours. He made you feel things you didn’t know existed. In conclusion, it wasn’t possible to describe the time with him adequately. _Magical_ was a word the muggles would probably use.

Sometimes, in the quiet moments, when you watched him work in the library or nod off in the Room of Requirements, a thought entered your mind. It crept up like a monster behind his prey, careful and silent but just as dangerous: _This isn’t friendship._

You shut it out but it kept coming back. Waking you in the middle of the night, distracting you when you studied, made you forget your homework.Until now, you were successful in ignoring it. However, along with the thought came the fear that it wouldn’t leave you.

Headmistress McGonagall was in the middle of her speech when the two of you arrived. You glared at Draco, silently saying “I told you so” before you sat down next to Ginny. She grinned at you and wiggled her eyebrows, guessing where you had come from. You rolled your eyes.

“… Winter Dance.”

You looked up abruptly when McGonagall said those words. She made a pause as if she wanted to see the reactions of her students. They started to murmur and giggle, excitement filled the room like a buzz. She stopped it with a wave of her hand.

“The last time, Hogwarts has hosted such an event was during the Triwizard Tournament”, McGonagall continued. “It feels like a long time ago. This particular school year ended in tragedy when we lost our dear student and friend, Cedric Diggory.” Another pause. “We experienced the Dance however as something beautiful that brought us and you closer together. This is why we, the staff and our Prefects,” she turned to smile at the mentioned people, “decided to make the Winter Dance a yearly tradition. In February of each year, we will come together to celebrate and dance.”

When she ended, the Hall erupted into clapping and cheers. Ginny nudged you excitedly, already making plans for you to go to Hogsmeade to shop for a dress during the next weekend.

“The Winter Dance will be held in two weeks,” the Headmistress announced. “I expect you to wear formal, appropriate attire. Other than that –”, a smile showed on her face, “– I expect you to have fun.”

With that, she snapped her fingers and food appeared on the long tables. The Hall was filled with noise in seconds. You felt the excitement in the air and when Draco winked at you from across the Slytherin table and you couldn’t suppress the smile, you understood the other students.

A ball.

A real ball. With dresses and music and delicious food and everyone having fun. Everyone being normal. Just like the Yule Ball. It seemed so long ago yet you remembered every detail of the night. Getting ready with Ginny, nervously waiting for your date, clumsily dancing and trying not to step on his feet. To be fair, you had gotten much better since then. When your father found out that you tripped twice during the night, he spent the also summer between your third and fourth year teaching you how to dance. The memory gave you a feeling of warmth. Oh, how happy and simple your life once was.

“I suppose you’re going with Malfoy?”, Ginny interrupted your thoughts.

You didn’t answer her question. “I suppose you’re going with Harry?”

She frowned. “Of course, we’re dating.”

You looked at her with a raised eyebrow. It clicked in her brain and Ginny nodded slowly. “Right yes, I keep thinking this all just a feverish dream and you’re not really with him.”

“Stop being rude, Ginny,” Hermione chimed in before taking a sip from her drink.

“She can handle it,” the Weasley girl replied and grinned at you.

You chuckled. “Thank you, Hermione,” you said nonetheless. “However, let’s focus on the more important things here.”

Both of the girls looked at you with question marks in their eyes.

“We need to get to Hogsmeade before Parkinson and the whole bunch can buy the good dresses.”

***

_One week later …_

Draco flinched.

You stopped and looked up at him. He was on his back, shirtless, the covers pulled up just to hips, one arm behind his head, the other one straight next to his body. Although his eyes were closed, you noticed the way he clenched his jaw.

It was quiet in the Room of Requirements. Right now, it had changed to a small room with only a large bed in front of a window from which you were able to see the Black Lake and the stunning Scottish landscape behind it.

“Does it hurt?”, you whispered.

“Yes,” he replied. “No, I … I can’t describe it.” He let out a deep breath.

“Hmm,” you hummed and your eyes trailed back over his toned chest down to his left arm. The eyes of the snake in his black tattoo seemed to be staring back at you. In your mind, you were curious to see how it looked when it was moving.

“Do you think it should hurt?”, you asked then.

Draco opened his eyes. They found you right away. “I have a therapist for that, you know.”

You smiled cheekily at him.

He turned on his side, using his left arm to prop himself up. Right in that moment, the first rays of the sun hit the window. The light made his skin shimmer golden and it took your breath away for a second. People disagreed on so many things about Draco Malfoy but you were convinced there was one thing, everyone – even a blind person – had to admit: he was drop dead gorgeous.

“You’re beautiful,” he mumbled. His expression was serious, not even the hint of a smile. “I can say that, right? As a friend?”

The sudden tone that changed from earnest to teasing, made you snort. “It’s possible to find people attractive without having feelings for them. You’re not blind, are you?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m definitely not.” After a moment of silence, he then asked: “Have you found a dress yet?”

“Going today before breakfast.”

“Before?”, he raised an eyebrow. That meant you had to leave soon.

You nodded. “We want to get there before Parkinson and the rest.”

“I feel like Weasley and Pansy have quite different price ranges, so she doesn’t have to worry,” Draco remarked.

“But Parkinson and I don’t,” you replied and tried your best not to roll your eyes at his comment.

“True,” he shrugged. “I’d love to buy a dress.”

The statement took you by surprise. You blinked. Draco smiled sadly. It took you an embarrassing long time to understand. _From what money._ “One day,” you said softly. “Times will change for your family. I’m sure of it.”

There was an awkward moment of silence in which Draco just looked at you, an unreadable expression on his face. Then he shifted and so did the blanket on his hips, you noticed. When he saw how your eyes wandered down his body, he smirked. “When do you have to leave?”

“Thirty minutes.”

“I can work with that.”

***

You were the first customers of the day. The store was still closed when Hermione, Ginny and you arrived.

“See, it’s not even open yet. There was no reason for you to be mad at me!”, you exclaimed when you stood in front of the door and saw the ‘Closed’-sign.

“You were twenty minutes late!”, Hermione snapped. Her cheeks were red. You didn’t know if the running or the anger caused it but you were not sure if you wanted to.

“Yeah, well, I was busy …,” you mumbled. “Doing things …”

“Do those things have Malfoy as their last name?”, Ginny asked.

You cleared your throat. “Maybe?”

There was a brief moment of silence in which your friends just looked at you. Then, suddenly, both of them started laughing.

“Just the thought …”, Ginny shivered.

“People like Malfoy don’t have sex, it’s just, no, my mind doesn’t know what to do with this information,” Hermione shook her head.

You snorted at their reactions. It was freezing cold out here and so you began to rock back and forth on your heels. “They do,” you said to Hermione. “Believe me, they do.”

“Is he any good though?”, Ginny wanted to know. “Or is he into some weird kinky Slytherin –”

Luckily, she was cut off when the door opened and a small, old lady looked at you. “Are you here for the Winter Dance?”

***

In all your time at Hogwarts, you had never stepped foot into this shop. For the Yule Ball, your parents had sent you a dress so you really never had a reason to come here.

You were surprised though by the sheer abundance of dresses and suits pressed into the small store. Every color you could think of, tulle and lace and velvet and satin – you and your friends were speechless when you walked in.

“There’s just … so much,” Hermione stammered.

“Yes, dear,” the old lady nodded eagerly. “When we heard about the Winter Dance, we made as many dresses as we could in the short time.”

“They’re all so beautiful,” you said.

“Thank you! They are the best quality in all of Scotland!”, she replied shortly. “How about you take a seat and I will present you with some options that I’d think would look stunning on you pretty girls.”

And with that, she hurried off. Your friends looked at one another before going over to the small couch on the other end of the store. It was located in front of the dressing rooms and a huge mirror.

Hermione was first. She had a pretty clear vision of what she wanted to wear and the old lady picked out the perfect dress right on the first try. It was a gorgeous red ballgown with a sweetheart-neckline. She looked like a goddess.

“Ron will faint,” you remarked and she giggled.

Ginny was next. For her, it was more difficult. She tried on six dresses, in colors from bright pink to black. In the end, she settled for a yellow dress. It clashed with her red-hair in the best way possible and you wondered how it was possible for any guy not to fall in love with her. She was excited when she saw herself in the mirror, turning and twirling in front of it – but her joy was ended abruptly when the old lady mentioned the price.

“I told you my price range,” Ginny said distraught.

“I’m sorry, dear,” she sighed. “But what you wanted … it wasn’t possible.”

“Then why didn’t you say something?”

Hermione looked over at you and you understood immediately. “We’ll pay for it,” you chimed in.

Ginny turned to you and shook her head violently. “No, absolutely not.” You had expected that reaction. She was just as proud as the rest of the family.

“It’s fine, Ginny,” Hermione smiled at her.

“No, it’s not!”

“It’s an early birthday gift?”, you tried to offer.

“No!”

“Okay, how about that,” you began, “we only pay the difference. And we’ll split it in half so it’s not too bad.”

Ginny hesitated.

“Just promise us to get us free tickets for your Quidditch games once you’re famous,” Hermione added.

Finally, she smiled. Very hesitantly but she did. “Fine then.”

You were next. Not sure what you’d like, you told the lady to just bring any dresses she’d like to see on you. In this moment, you wished for your mother to be here. No matter how difficult of a person she was, she had an immaculate sense of style. She would have walked in here and picked the right dress immediately.

However, the old lady seemed to have the same gift. When you saw yourself in that first dress, you swallowed heavily. You hardly recognized the woman in the mirror.

“Oh it’s gorgeous,” Hermione commented. “That’s the one, no question.”

Ginny nodded in agreement.

It was a dark blue dress, flowing down, hugging and accentuating all the right parts of your body. There were little gemstones woven in the fabric of the skirt, making it sparkle with every movement of yours. It must cost a fortune. Luckily, your father still felt guilty for what happened last Christmas and told you to not look on the price tag and to simply send him the bill.

“His favourite colour is green.”

You were so stunned by the dress that you didn’t notice how the door opened and someone stepped in. You looked up, only to see the judging faces of your three Slytherin best friends: Astoria Greengrass, accompanied by her sister and Parkinson.

Astoria stared at you and didn’t even try to hide the fact that she despised seeing you here. “His favourite colour,” she repeated herself. “It’s green.”

Oh, so she wanted to pick a fight.

You frowned, not sure what to say at first.

“Oh, fuck off, Greengrass,” Ginny shot at her, coming to your rescue.

“Wow, a Weasel? In here? You sure you can aff–”

Before she finished her sentence and Ginny got a chance to physically fight her, you raised your voice: “It’s not.”

Astoria focused her attention back on you. Confused, you noticed how her sister – Daphne – rolled her eyes and stepped away, clearly not interested in this petty drama. Parkinson stayed and watched the two of you curiously.

“Excuse me?”, Astoria said.

“His favourite colour isn’t green,” you explained with a soft voice. “It’s this one actually. Blue.”

She blinked.

“And some small piece of advice,” you continued, “wear what you’re comfortable with not what you think men like Draco want.”

In the corner of your eye, you saw Hermione looking down on her feet. The corners of her mouth twitched. Ginny on the other hand didn’t hide the wide grin on her face.

If looks could kill, you’d be dead by now. “Luckily with my body I’m comfortable in everything,” she said coldly.

You smiled. “Okay then. Good for you.”

***

_Two weeks later …_

“If you don’t want me looking like a house-elf, I have to leave now to get ready!”, you giggled.

Draco ignored you and lowered his head to kiss you again. He was heavy against your body as he pinned you down and when your lips met, a sigh escaped you. He replied by only deepening the kiss – his tongue twined with yours and your fingers tangled in his hair. Draco groaned when you pulled at it and suddenly he changed positions, yanking you up and pulling you in his lap.

You gasped when you felt him, growing more excited already, and pressed yourself against him, biting down on his lip. Dracos hands tightened on your hips and he moved down to where the skirt from your uniform was already riding up. When you felt his touch against your skin, you broke the kiss.

“What?”, he asked, his eyes dark and hungry.

“I have to go now,” you repeated yourself.

He groaned and let his head fall against the back of the couch. You smirked. “And you need to get ready as well.”

“You’re a tease,” he mumbled and you laughed. “Why don’t we just skip the Dance?”, Draco then asked.

You shook your head. “Because I’ve been looking forward to this for two weeks now.”

“But we’d have so much fun,” Draco tried to argue. You felt his fingers drawing circles on your upper thigh and shivered. His eyes lit up at the reaction. “The castle will be empty. Can you imagine all the rooms we could do it in? How about the Slytherin common –”

You quickly put a finger on his lips to stop him from talking. “I want to go dance though, Draco.” You lowered your voice: “Besides, don’t you want to see me in my dress?”

“Mhh,” he hummed. “I do. You could only wear it for me?”

You chuckled again and leaned forward to give him a quick kiss.

“So that’s a no?”, he asked when you pulled back.

“No.” You shook your head.

Draco sighed dramatically. “Fine then.”

You smiled at him and kissed him another time, a little longer this time, a little more teasing. “It’ll be fun,” you whispered against his lips. “See you later.” He groaned defeatedly when you got up from his lap.

You reached for your bag and cloak and after a little wave of your hand, you walked towards the door. “Oh and Draco?”, you remembered something. “I’m never gonna do it in the Slytherin common room with you.”

You knew he was smirking without turning around.

“You say that now but wait until –”

The door fell shut before you heard the end of his sentence.


	18. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so amazed that so many people still read my story and leave me comments <3 i love you all so much!

You saw him first.

He stood at the end of the stairs, next to Theodore Nott. The Slytherins were laughing about a joke that got drowned out in the chatter of the other students. Still, the scene unfolding in front of you tugged at your heartstrings. Nott looked up and when he saw you, he nudged Draco with his elbow and a smirk on his face.

You came down alone, nervously lifting your dress with one hand, trying not to stumble and fall. Draco turned his head and the smile on his lips warmed your heart. At the end of the stairs, he extended his arm and you took his hand. He leaned forward and placed a kiss on it – such an old-school, traditional thing to do. Something you would have rolled your eyes at just a few months ago.

“You look …”, he began but closed his mouth.

You looked at him and wondered if he liked your dress. (And also wondered why the hell you cared about that.)

“Stunning, beautiful, gorgeous,” Nott said when Draco remained silent. “All of them are words you could describe your girlfriend with, Draco.”

You chuckled and Nott took a step forward to greet you, placing a kiss on your cheek. You were surprised by the sudden friendliness. Nott had always been more on the quiet side, hardly ever engaging in house rivalries. Yet, he used to be cold and distant to non-Slytherins. So this gesture was definitely startling.

“What he said,” Draco smirked at you. “You’re beautiful.”

“Well, you don’t look too bad yourself,” you admitted, reaching forward to touch the bow tie around his neck. “Who’s your date then, Nott?”, you asked the other Slytherin.

“Theo.”

“Hm?”

“Theo,” he repeated himself. “You’ve been dating for how long now? Call me Theo.”

“Okay,” you replied, even more surprised now. Had you made it into the inner circle of the Slytherins? Did they accept you already? “Y/N.”

“There she is,” Theo nodded in the direction of the stairs. “Have fun, see you later.” And with that, he left the two of you. You followed him with your eyes; how he walked up the stairs towards a girl with a smile that lit up the whole room. She wore a green velvet dress that complimented her dark skin beautifully. Theo kissed her on the cheek and said something that made her laugh. You recognized her – she was a year below you. And she was a Hufflepuff. And …

“She’s a half-blood,” you stated without taking your eyes off the couple.

Draco snorted. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” you nodded, still in awe at the simple fact that someone like Theodore Nott would even see girls who weren’t purebloods.

“Why does he always copy me?”

You furrowed your brows at the comment and looked over to Draco. “What?”

He shrugged. “I get a non-Slytherin girlfriend and now he tries to do the same.”

“Merlin, Draco,” you rolled your eyes. Yet another thought entered your mind, one that caused nothing but confusion inside of you as you didn’t know what to do with it:

_He said ‘girlfriend’. He didn’t put the ‘fake’ in front of it._

***

The Winter Dance was everything you had hoped for – and more.

They decorated the Great Hall beautifully. Large chandeliers hung from the ceiling, bathing the room in golden light. Snowflakes danced above your heads, vanishing into thin air mere inches before they would have touched you. There were tables with white and golden linens all around where students could take a break for a moment while getting something to eat and drink from the refilling plates. In the middle of the hall was the dance floor – so far, not many students dared to get on it. It was still too early. You spotted Luna and Neville, laughing and holding hands while jumping up and down.

“Can you consider this a dance?”, you leaned over and asked Draco. He raised an eyebrow in response but couldn’t hide an amused smile.

Soft music came from an invisible source around you. When you saw the small stage behind the dance floor, you wondered if there would be a band performing tonight like at the Yule Ball during the Triwizard Tournament.

“They outdid themselves,” you said.

Draco shrugged.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, come on! You must admit it looks beautiful.”

“You look beautiful, darling,” he replied.

***

You don’t know if it had been minutes or hours since you walked in the Great Hall – all you knew was that your hair wasn’t in perfect condition anymore, your feet hurt and you were thirsty. Draco danced like a young god. That didn’t surprise you at all, however, you didn’t expect him to do it so freely.

At some point a band whose name you had never heard before started to play. The songs changed from teacher-approved to faster and louder music. It reminded you so much of the Yule Ball, it physically hurt.

There wasn’t much talking going on between you and Draco that night. Just a lot of laughing and singing and dancing. Happiness rushed through your bodies and in those moments, no one else existed. Only you and him.

That was, however, until your best friend tapped Draco on the shoulder: Astoria Greengrass. The two of you came to an abrupt halt.

“May I have this dance?”, she shouted over the loud music, a smug smile on her lips. The Slytherin looked gorgeous in her green satin dress and those emerald earrings that shone brightly in the light of the chandeliers.

“Astoria,” Draco said, out of breath. “Absolutely not.”

The smile remained plastered on her pretty face. “Just one dance? With your future fiancée?”

You raised your eyebrows at that. Without noticing it, the grip on his hand tightened. The constant reminder of their soon-to-be-made betrothal slowly turned annoying. Draco looked at you and your intertwined hands.

“No,” he repeated himself.

What she did next surprised you: she laughed. A short high-pitched laugh. You flinched. “Draco,” she purred his name, taking a step closer. “Just. One. Dance.”

And then it hit you. Like a tile falling from the roof of the astronomy tower, the realization crashed into you. For the first time in forever, you _saw_ her. You looked beyond the beautiful face and what you saw frightened you. She was thin. So thin that it made you wonder how she could stand upright, let alone walk or dance. Her skin was pale but not a “Slytherins-that-spend-to-much-time-in-the-dungeons”-pale. No, it reminded you of a ghost when you saw the blue veins underneath it as it stretched over her sharp collarbones. Astoria gripped her dress tightly but it didn’t stop her hand from shaking. Dark circles underneath her eyes decorated her face and her lips trembled.

Something was very, very wrong.

“It’s fine, Draco.”

He turned his head quickly and frowned.

“It’s fine,” you said empathetically.

He didn’t understand. Neither did you. But the desperation found in Astoria made you feel … pity for her. Judging by her narrowed eyes, she sensed that as well – and she hated it.

You leaned over to Draco and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Before he could protest further, you left.

***

“That band is amazing, how have I never heard of them before?” You dropped onto the chair next to Ginny.

“Because you live behind a rock,” she replied. Strands of red hair hung into her face, her cheeks were red and she stretched her legs in an attempt to relax her muscles. “I haven’t danced that much in years. Everything hurts.”

You groaned in agreement. Letting your eyes wander through the Hall and over your classmates, you spotted Draco and Astoria. They stood together closely and Draco had his hands on her hips. It was a slow song and they moved accordingly, swaying to the music. He didn’t meet her eyes yet you saw how Astoria stared at him, her lips moving.

“Trouble in paradise?”, Ginny asked. She had followed your gaze and watched the two Slytherins with curiosity.

You shook your head. “No.”

“Then why’s he dancing with her?”

“Have you noticed something about Greengrass?”, you wanted to know.

Ginny tilted her head. “Huh.” Then she shrugged. “Not really. I’m not looking at her that often.”

 _Same,_ you thought ironically. You had so much contact with her and yet you never noticed anything else behind her strange behavior.

“She’s thin, isn’t she?”, you pondered.

Another shrug. “Aren’t eating disorders something they inherit along with their mansions and fancy clothes?”

Normally, that comment would have made you chuckle. Now, you didn’t react and kept your eyes locked on Greengrass. Ginny watched you awkwardly and was probably very relieved when Harry appeared with two drinks in his hands.

You wondered if Astorias appearance had anything to do with her odd behavior. Then again, you couldn’t really tell if her behavior was strange or not. You hardly ever spoke to her before this school year and had kept a safe distance from the Slytherins. Most of what you knew came from Draco and that wasn’t much. Besides, Draco had been too busy with himself this school year. You were pretty sure that he wouldn’t have noticed if anything was off about her.

A second song came on. Slow again. Greengrass was still talking but this time, she inched even closer. You narrowed your eyes.

“They’re cozy,” Ginny stated nonchalantly and Harry grinned.

That was enough. You rose to your feet swiftly and crossed the room in seconds. “I think I remember something about just one dance?”

Draco took a step back. Astoria copied him. She ignored you, staring at Draco as if she waited for him to say something. His face was blank, he avoided looking at her. The loud music blaring from the stage didn’t hide the heavy tension between them. You shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another.

“Nothing, Draco?”, she finally asked. You barely understood it over the singing students next to you. “You have nothing to say?”

His eyes darted to you. The look in them caused a shiver to run down your spine. You had seen it before. After the evening in his dorm when he came to you again in the Room of Requirements. _Guilt._

“Not tonight.” He straightened his back and reached for your hand. You didn’t resist. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Talk about what? About their engagement?

Astoria scoffed. “Well then,” she shot you one last look. “Enjoy your night.”

“Everything alright?”, you asked when she was gone.

Draco pulled you closer and the two of you started swaying to the rhythm of the next song. “Sure.” His eyes travelled over the crowd as if he was looking for someone. Looking for her.

You stopped and let go of his hands. “Don’t.” Your voice was calm but firm. You wouldn’t accept this behavior. You weren’t his mother or Zabini or even Greengrass, where he could just avoid questions and give one-worded lies as answers. “We’re beyond this.”

Draco sighed. You saw it by the way his chest rose. After another brief moment of hesitation, he grabbed your hand and pulled you from the dance area. He walked until the two of you had passed the tables and leaned against a few steps away from the huge wooden door that led outside.

“Is this about your engagement?”, you wanted to know impatiently.

Draco opened his mouth and closed it again. You crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“Kind of,” he admitted. “I can’t say.”

A cold, heavy feeling set in your stomach. “Kind of?”

Draco let out a deep breath and reached for your arms to pull you close again. This time, you resisted. “Yes,” he nodded. “I really can’t say.”

“You can’t or you don’t want to?”

“I can’t,” his tone grew harder at your accusation. You narrowed your eyes.

“Look, Y/N, it’s something that doesn’t concern you. It’s personal for her and I don’t know enough to speak about this to you. She asked me not to.”

“Our _arrangement_ is personal too and I’d like to know if it’s going to end soon,” you shot back. The feeling in your stomach grew heavier when you thought about the word _end._ It had only just begun. You didn’t want it to end. Not yet, at least.

To your surprise, Draco just snorted. “What we have isn’t going to end anytime soon if I have it my way,” he tried to reassure you. Again, he reached for your arms. Hesitantly, you let him pull you close. “It’s just not my secret to tell.”

You sighed. A part of you had to admit that you understood where he was coming from. If anything, it spoke for his character that he didn’t just blurt out whatever she had told him. “Since when do you care about these things?”

“Slytherin’s honor,” he replied simply and shrugged.

You raised an eyebrow. “What?” The corners of your mouth twitched.

“It doesn’t matter if I like her or not,” he explained. “She told me something and I won’t repeat it to others.”

“Because she’s a Slytherin?”

Draco nodded. “When three out of three other houses hate you, you have to stick together.”

You chuckled and leaned against him. “Makes sense. I don’t think everyone hates you though.”

“There are always exceptions to the rule.”

***

_Late that night …_

“The Weasel is looking at you.”

You chuckled against Draco’s chest. “I guarantee you, he looking at _you._ ”

It was late and only a few of your classmates could still be found in the Great Hall; most of them sixth and seventh graders. Some of the teachers sat together on a table, watching the remaining students.

After the talk with Draco about Greengrass, you had gone back to dance and drink. It’d be lie to say you simply forgot about this even though you were certain that Draco would tell you all about it when the time came. But of course, the nagging feeling didn’t leave you. What could she have told him that was so shocking? What secrets were left in their families that he wasn’t able to look her in the eyes afterwards?

Only when Seamus slipped you one of his famous drinks did you start to relax a little and pushed the thought to the back of your brain. It was the same for Draco even though you saw how his expression would change once he spotted one of the Greengrass sisters. Was Daphne involved?

 _Involved in what?,_ you wondered when he twirled you around.

“Hm.”

The sound made you look at the Slytherin. “What is it?”

“I can’t believe it.”

“Believe what?” You followed his gaze. Ron stood a few meters away from you, hands on Hermiones hips. She had her eyes closed as she moved to the slow sounds, unaware of her boyfriend’s preoccupation.

“I still can’t believe you let _him-_ “

“Draco!”, you glared at him.

He shook his head before asking: “Was he any good though?”

You snorted. Was he serious? Judging by the way he waited for an answer, he was. “I had my fun,” you finally said diplomatically.

Again, Draco shook his head. He looked back and forth between you and the Weasley. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with that information.”

“Don’t ask me stuff if you’re not prepared for the answer,” you gave a half shrug.

***

The stones felt cold against your back when Draco pressed you up against the wall. The teachers had officially ended the Winter Dance just a few minutes earlier. Not wanting to go to bed early (or rather – go to bed separately), Draco and you snuck outside to the inner courtyard.

There was a storm raging on tonight. It rained heavily, the drops clattering against the ancient walls and the air was chilly. The two of you didn’t notice any of it. All you felt was his body against yours and his hands on your hips. He kissed you, deep and slow, with a longing that you blamed on the alcohol from Seamus. You buried your hands in his hair, chuckling as he playfully bit on your lower lip.

“Hey lovebirds! Get a room already!”, the interruption broke your kiss.

Draco cursed under his breath and turned his head, ready to tell them to leave you two alone. The words got stuck in his throat when he saw who it was.

Ron and Hermione looked at you, accompanied by Harry and Ginny. Rons stare reminded you of the one you got on your face when Moaning Myrtle would overflow the toilets again – utterly disgusted. Hermione squeezed his hand, a mixture of annoyance and nervousness written over her face. Ginny looked the same and Harry just seemed deeply confused.

“Oh for fucks sake!”, Ron exclaimed dramatically when he recognized Draco.

“Ignore him,” you said and held onto his arms. “He’s not worth it.” Despite the loud noises of the rain, the Redhead heard you.

“Yeah, listen to your girlfriend, Malfoy!”

Draco’s eyes narrowed.

“Ron, please,” Hermione chimed in, now more annoyed than nervous. “Let’s go inside. It’s late.”

“Yes, why don’t you just piss off, Weasel?”, Draco scoffed.

“Or what?”, Ron spat. “You tell your father?”

You rolled your eyes but Draco was quick to answer: “No, I’ll make just sure you’ll end up in the same place as him.”

“Ron, let’s go,” Hermione insisted.

He ignored her. “Oooooh, now you really scared me, Malfoy!”

“Draco, come on.” You sensed that this would end badly if no one would step in. Your eyes flickered to the door leading inside the castle, unsure whether you wanted a teacher to come out now or not.

“Ron, we’re leaving!”

Harry and Ginny glanced at each other. They had taken a few steps back and you saw how Harry opened his mouth. Ginny hissed something and he closed it again.

“No, we’re not done here.”

Your eyes darted back to Ron at his sentence. “Not done with what, Ron?”, you barked. “Just fucking go back inside. There’s really no need for this.”

He stared at Draco. The Slytherin straightened his back and his posture told Ron without any words what he thought of him. _I’m better than you,_ it screamed. Arrogance dripped out of his every pore. You were taken aback by it – not having seen this side of him for a long time now. You had almost forgotten it was still there.

A sense of dread washed over you when you realized: _Something’s about to happen._

Suddenly, a smug expression appeared on his face. _Oh-oh._

“What?”, Ron spat out when he saw it.

“Nothing,” Draco replied but the smirk stayed.

“No, you arrogant prick! Spit it out!”

“It’s just hilarious how obsessed you are with her. Still.”

Lightning struck and your blood froze. Fuck.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck._

“Draco, don’t!”, you hissed.

From the corner of your eye you saw how Hermione frowned.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ron still sounded firm but he grew pale. You were sure that Hermione noticed it as well.

“Sure,” Draco leaned against the wall next to you.

“I don’t know what she told you but –”

Anger. The feeling that began to boil up inside of you was exactly that – the anger you had swallowed down for months now. The rage, Draco had managed to calm down at least for a few weeks. He had made you forget it was even there, turning the memory of Ron and your last summer into a distant dream. Something so insignificant to you, it made the flies living in the Forbidden Forest seem more important.

Now, it was back. Right when you realized that the coward wanted to lie about you and him _again._

“That sentence better not ends with ‘it’s not true’,” you blurted out. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

“Wait, wait, what’s this about?” Hermione took a step back. Deep lines decorated her forehead as her eyes darted back and forth between you and Ron.

Her boyfriend turned to her, wanting to reach out but she wouldn’t have it. She was now outside the shelter from the roof and raindrops landed on her pretty red dress. “Nothing, Mione,” Ron said. “I don’t know what they’re talking about.”

You scoffed.

“Just help me understand one thing, Weasel,” Draco – falsely encouraged by your reaction – began again.

“Draco, don’t!”

“Is this about the fact that she’s with me now or because you’re still in love with her?”

Lightning struck again.

“Draco!”, you gasped and so did Hermione.

“Okay, shut the fuck up now, Malfoy!”, Harry finally chimed in. “Let’s go!”

“No, no no,” Hermione muttered. You hardly understood her over the storm. “Wait, I don’t get it.” She raised her hands. “Ron, what’s going on?”

“Hermione …”, you began and even Ginny, who had been quite until now, started talking. More voices mixed in together – Harry and Draco cursing at each other, Ron trying to get Hermione to listen to him.

“QUIET!”

Silence. Immediate silence followed her scream. Hermione took a deep breath. “Quiet now!”, she repeated herself. “Everyone, please.” She turned to Ron, her voice surprisingly calm and collected again: “You’ve been acting weird around Y/N for months now. Don’t think I didn’t notice. What’s going on?”

More silence.

“Ron.”

“I … we …”, he stammered. Your heart sunk.

“Oh god,” the muggle expression slipped out of her mouth. Tears began to form in her eyes.

“Mione …”, Ron began.

“You weren’t together,” you quickly said, knowing it wouldn’t make a difference now. Yet, you had to try. “It happened over the summer when you were … on a break. He ended it because he loves you and wanted to get back with you.”

Ron nodded violently. “Yes, yes, Mione, I love you so much!”

“You lied to me for so many months? Both of you?” The look of betrayal in her eyes broke you.

There it was. The lie you had carried with you for months now. It was all out in the open. You had often wondered if the guilt would vanish once the truth would be out. Now you found out that it didn’t. No, in fact it felt even worse. You lied to your best friend, a person who’d take an Unforgivable Curse for you.

And it wasn’t the only lie you told her.

“I’m so sorry …”, you whispered.

“She didn’t want to unnecessarily hurt you! That’s why she didn’t say anything! It meant nothing!”, Ginny suddenly said. Harry’s eyes widened.

“You knew?”, Hermione croaked.

Ginny opened her mouth, then closed it again and looked down to her feet.

“Oh god, oh god …”

“Mione …”, Ron took a step towards her into the rain and wanted to grab her hand.

“No, I … no,” she shook her head, not looking at any of you. “I need … I need space.” She pushed his hands away and turned around. Hermione hurried back inside, almost tripping about her dress twice.

“Mione …”, Ron cried after her.

“Don’t.” That was Harry. “Give her some time.”

For a while, no one said anything. An awkward silence settled between the five of you. Finally, Ron cursed and left as well.

“Why was I the only one who didn’t know about this?”, Harry looked at Ginny.

“Because you’re oblivious to everything and everyone around you,” she replied.

He raised his eyebrows, knowing she was probably right. “Not cool though, guys. Not cool.”

Ginny sighed and turned to you. “You have to fix this.”

You nodded. “I know.”

Another sigh left her lips, then she took Harrys hand and both of them made their way back inside the castle.

There were no sounds except for the howling of the wind and the thunder in the distance. You kept your eyes locked on the door as if you expected Hermione to come back outside any minute now. After a while, a shiver ran down your spine. When you felt Draco putting his jacket over your shoulders, your head snapped in his direction.

“Why the fuck did you say that?!”

He furrowed his brows. “Y/N …”

“Answer me!”

He sighed. “Someone had to say it eventually and –”

“Yes,” you interrupted him. “Someone. Not you! That wasn’t your place.”

“Her own boyfriend lied to her for months now!”

“As if you give a single fuck about her feelings, Draco!”, you fumed. “Stop pretending this was about anything over than your sick need to make yourself feel superior to everyone around you!” You pulled the jacket from your shoulders and threw it at him. “By Merlin, you’re still the same fucking jerk from third grade, aren’t you, Malfoy?!”

***

When you heard the footsteps on the stairs, you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Fucking hell, why did he have to care so much?

About an hour had passed since you stormed away from Draco, right after insulting him. You had wandered through Hogwarts – dodging annoying ghosts and Filch until you finally hid up here on the Astronomy Tower.

You wanted to talk to Hermione. Wanted to clear the air and apologize. You never meant to hurt her … not that this excused your behavior at all. However, you knew that she wouldn’t want to see you tonight. She needed time to cool down and you wanted to give that to her. Besides, you were way too upset yourself for any kind of productive talk.

“How did you find me here?”, you asked him.

“I searched all of your usual spots,” Draco replied and sat down next to you. “You’ll freeze to death up here.” He was right. The wind on the Astronomy Tower blew relentlessly. He pulled his wand from his jacket and mumbled a spell. Warmth spread around the two of you, trying to soften your cold and stiffened muscles.

“You shouldn’t have come,” you mumbled. “You hate it up here.”

“I don’t hate it.”

“You never want to come here.”

Draco shrugged. “I used to come here quite often. Grew tired of it eventually, I guess.”

There was a moment of silence as both you watched the dark clouds in the night sky.

“I’m sorry,” Draco finally said.

You remained still.

“It wasn’t my place. I just wanted …”, he stopped himself. “I’m sorry.”

You glanced at him. He stared at the wand in his hand.

“You’re not a jerk,” you admitted. “Sorry for that.”

When you insulted him, it came from a place of misdirected anger. He wasn’t the responsible one for Hermiones pain. That was you.

“I am though.”

You chuckled. “Maybe. But you’re not the same jerk from the third grade.”

A small smile appeared on his face. You scooted closer to him and leaned against his body. Draco put an arm around you and together, you watched the storm.


	19. Cursed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your support! I was crying over how many people reached out to me after I posted the last chapter <3 Finally, the new chapter is here. This one was difficult. I hope you like it! TW: eating disorder (mentions of it)

It felt wrong.

Draco only used the Room of Requirements to be with you. He never went here on his own. Not that he would ever admit it – but the room scared him. The last time he’d been here alone was at the beginning of this school year. He found out then that it didn’t change for him anymore. All he saw when he walked in were the dirty, cracked windows and the flies and spiders that died in front of them. Old furniture, forgotten books and dirt was scattered around, piling up and towering over him.

As he stood there, his gaze was drawn to the end of the room. Hiding behind the corners, buried under black linen, there it was. The vanishing cabinet. He felt its presence. Looming, waiting, calling for him. Alright, to be fair, the last part was probably only in his imagination. It didn’t change his feelings towards this particular room of Hogwarts though.

It was different when you were with him. It changed for you and turned the monster that it was for Draco into a purring housecat. With you, it felt like a vacation. As if he had travelled to a small cottage, far away from roaring cities or ancient castles.

However tonight, you were not here. Astoria Greengrass had taken your place. She sat on a couch across from Draco, back straight, hands neatly folded in her lap. Her black hair was tied up in a bun and not a single strand of hair was out of place. _The spitting image of her mother,_ Draco thought. He had always wondered about how different the Greengrass sisters looked. Astoria inherited the sharp features, thin lips, and slim figure of her mother. Daphne resembled their father a lot more with her round face, long blonde hair, and the doe-like eyes. The both of them were like night and day. Yin and Yang.

Draco looked around the room which had turned into a smaller version of the Slytherin common room. All the important details where there – from the green colors to the Slytherin emblems on the pillows and carpet. Only the windows were out of place. They didn’t offer him a view inside of the lake but were the same cracked ones, he had seen one too many times in his life. It reminded him that he wasn’t here with you.

It felt wrong.

***

Draco leaned back against the chair. He crossed his leg and his fingertips tapped a non-recognizable rhythm on his right upper thigh. Astoria didn’t look up at him when she spoke. He could tell that the words had been carefully chosen in advance. Remembered and recited in front of a mirror. Yet she couldn’t meet his eyes. Draco noticed the way she plucked at the skin on her thumb.

When you’d ask him tomorrow for how long the conversation went on, he wouldn’t have an answer. Time seemed to stand still the moment Astoria opened her mouth for the first time.

“Say something,” she whispered when she finished, and the silence became unbearable.

Draco noticed that there wasn’t a fireplace. Another thing that the Room of Requirement had gotten wrong.

“Say something,” Astoria repeated herself, her voice shaking a little more this time.

Draco stopped the tapping. “Is that why?”, he finally asked.

She hesitated and then nodded. Draco sighed and looked out of the window.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a while.

Astoria scoffed. “Me too.”

“I am,” he looked back at her.

For the first time since he had entered the room, Astoria lifted her head. When her eyes met his, he saw the anger in them. “I’m dying and all you have to say is ‘Sorry’?”, she spat out.

“You don’t know that,” Draco said matter-of-factly.

Astoria raised her eyebrows. “What?”

“That you’re dying.”

She looked at him as if he was a little slow in his head. “I … I just told you.”

“You told me about the family curse,” Draco corrected her. “No one can say if it will happen to you.”

She let out a huff, stunned by his reaction. Had he not listened to a word she said? “I told you about the clairvoyant at Knockturn Alley!”

“Seers say a lot of shit.” He shrugged and added: “Especially when you pay them.”

Astoria lost her posture – with wide eyes and a shake of her head, she let herself slump back against the pillows. “I can’t believe you’re not taking me seriously.”

Draco sighed and began tapping on his thigh again. The same rhythm from before. “I am, Astoria. I believe you.”

_But I don’t want to,_ he added in his mind. He had heard rumors of the Greengrass curse before – only once, when he was maybe eight or nine years old and while he pretended to be asleep on an armchair, he listened to his mother and her friend.

“The poor woman,” Narzissa had said. “And those girls …”

“We don’t know if it will happen to them,” her friend replied softly.

“Why risk it though?”, he remembered his mother ask. “And decide to give birth to not only one but two girls?”

“Well, if one dies, she will still have the other.”

Looking back, the joke was tasteless and not the least bit funny. He didn’t remember how his mother responded to it. Back then, Draco didn’t understand what the women were talking about. So he had shoved the memory back and forgot – until tonight.

When Astoria came up to him at the Winter Dance, she was more … vague. Talking about how something had changed in her life, how decisions were made for her and that she was left with no option but to finally confine in him. Merlin, Draco had thought she was pregnant. This was worse – for obvious reasons.

“If you believe me, why are you like this?”, her voice ripped him from his thoughts. Draco hadn’t notice that he was staring out of the window again.

He cleared his throat and focused back on the Slytherin girl. “I believe you’re overexaggerating.” It was the truth. Or better – it was _a_ truth. The one he was able to share with her.

_“I’m dying.”_

“You’re not!”, he replied with a sharp voice.

Astoria flinched.

Draco sighed and leaned forward. “Look,” he continued, much softer now. “I’m sorry. You’re obviously very scared of this – and honestly, who wouldn’t be after receiving such news.” He paused. “But didn’t you just say you never experienced any symptoms?”

She looked to the ground. “Yes.”

“See?”, a smile played around the corners of his lips. “Stop beating yourself up about it.”

Astorias gaze stuck to the ground. His words didn’t ease her pain, he saw that. “I … Look at me, Draco,” she then mumbled.

Draco tilted his head. “I am.”

“No, truly look at me!” She lifted her head. “What do you see?”

He stared at her for a while. _What do you want me to say?_ He refrained himself from asking that. Instead, for the first time in years, he truly looked at her. Her school uniform was in perfect condition, no spot or loose thread in sight. The diamond earrings sparkled in the soft light and around her neck hung a delicate golden necklace. Her outer appearance was perfect. As always. The only thing that was different were her eyes. He frowned when he saw it. The fire in them. Gone. The arrogant spark, challenging every Ravenclaw and Gryffindor that didn’t get out of her way fast enough. He wondered when it had left her.

“I resemble a corpse! I swear, my grandmother had a better complexion than me on the day she died!”, Astoria continued after another minute of silence.

_Oh._ Draco blinked. She meant that? He wouldn’t have noticed that in a hundred years.

“And I’m so thin and –”

“Because you’re starving yourself,” Draco interrupted her and immediately scolded himself for it.

Astoria, who was in the middle of shifting to a different position, stopped, and stared at him. “What?”

Draco pondered for a moment about his next words. Astoria and her fucked up relationship towards food wasn’t a secret. Well, not since fourth grade when rumors started spreading about the true reasons of why she was always so eager to get to the nearest bathroom after meals. And then her bones began to stick out underneath her school uniform. Everyone noticed it. Everyone looked the other way. Problems like hers … they weren’t uncommon among their circles. Yet, they were problems to keep to behind closed doors. They were private. Nothing to talk about.

“Everyone needs an outlet for the stress that comes with living like we do,” his father had once said. “Women are just worse in finding the right one.”

Oh, how he hated his father.

Draco smiled sadly at Astoria. “Everybody knows, Astoria.”

“Knows what?”, she asked sharply.

“That you have issues with food.”

Astoria blinked. “I … you’re such an asshole,” she then exclaimed. “You’re an asshole, Draco Malfoy.”

Draco sighed and shifted positions. “Anyways,” he tried to change the subject. “You’re scared, I get it. But so far, you don’t have any symptoms. In fact, you started feeling ill once your mother went with you to see the seer, right? It frightened you and now you can’t stop focusing on that fear.”

Astoria scoffed. “Thanks, Mr. Therapist. You’ve got it all figured out, haven’t you?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I’m just guessing. It doesn’t make sense to care so much about something that might not even happen to you.”

“Doesn’t make sense to you, you mean”, Astoria corrected him.

Draco frowned.

“Because your problems are much more important.”

“My problems are real.”

That was probably the wrong thing to say in this situation. Even Draco realized that. The words had just slipped out. He hated to admit it but the egocentric, narcissistic part of himself believed them.

Astoria stood up abruptly. She smoothed over the fabric of her skirt and tucked a strand of hair that had fallen out of her bun behind her ear. She then looked at him, no expression on her face. When she spoke, her voice was calm and quiet: “Fuck you.”

With long steps Astoria made her way towards the door.

“Shit,” Draco mumbled under his breath and got up as well. “Astoria!”

She didn’t turn around.

“Astoria, wait! Please!”

The last word made her stop, hand already reaching for the doorknob. As she turned around, there was a bitter smile playing around her dark red lips. “Why?”, she asked him. “I trusted you with something and all you’re giving me is shit.”

Draco looked down to the ground and then back up. “I don’t know how to respond to this.”

“With empathy, Draco,” she folded her arms in front of her chest. “You might want to look that word up.”

Draco let out another deep sigh. A part of him secretly wished she would ignore him and just leave. It would be easier for him. Knowing this wasn’t an option for her, he finally walked towards Astoria. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly. His words had failed him, they had made everything worse for her and he hoped from the bottom of his heart that this would ease her pain just a little. Astorias body went stiff at first – only after a few seconds did she let her body relax. She leaned into his embrace as if someone took a weight off her shoulders.

“You know I’m here for you,” Draco whispered. “And I will be there in case …”

“In case, I’m dying after all.”

When Draco breathed in, he could smell her lavender shampoo. “Yes.”

Suddenly, her petite body began to tremble. At first Draco mistook it for giggling, then he heard the soft whimpers against his shoulder.

“It’ll be fine. I promise.” He hugged her tighter.

“You can’t promise me that,” she sniffed.

Draco let go of her and took a step back. He put a hand to her cheek, making her look at him. “The curse hasn’t been around for decades. It might skip your generation again.”

Her eyes were red and her cheeks puffy, silent tears running down them. “I’m so scared.”

“I know.”

“Please marry me.”

Draco closed his eyes at her plea. His head suddenly hurt and he wished you were here. You’d know how to handle situations like this.

“Astoria …”

“I know you don’t love me,” she interrupted him, her voice still trembling. “You couldn’t.”

He opened his eyes, looking at her in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You love her.”

Her. You. Draco blinked. “What? No, I –”

“I realized it on New Years Eve.” She wiped the tears from her cheek, still holding on to him with her other hand. Astoria cleared her throat. “I didn’t believe it in the beginning but … it’s so obvious. You love her so much, how could I ever expect you to look at me the same way you look at her?”

Draco shook her head. “Astoria –”

“But you know the relationship has no future. Neither of your families would ever agree to it. You know it. You know it in your heart.”

The piercing pain in his forehead grew stronger. When he’d remember this moment, Draco wouldn’t be able to describe his feelings. Her words barely managed to get through to him. _You love her,_ he heard her say over and over again. _You love her._

No. He didn’t love you.

He couldn’t.

“Marry me,” Astoria repeated herself and took a step closer again. She had to lift her head to look into his eyes. “My family will secure the future of the Malfoys.”

“I …”

_You love her. You love her. You love her._

“What do you get out of it?”, he finally managed to get out and tried to focus back on her, feeling weirdly out of breath.

Another tear rolled down her cheek. No sobs this time. “Once people will be able to see the sickness …”, she hesitated. “I won’t be looked at as the second daughter who’s living in her sister’s shadows.”

_You love her._

Draco furrowed his brows at her words, utterly irritated by them. “Nobody thinks that, Astoria.”

She laughed. “Yes, they do! Daphne has always been prettier, smarter, more desired. I can’t compete with her. I am the leftover Greengrass that no one wants and that’s now dying from a family curse. Because of fucking course it would hit me and not my picture perfect sister!”

Draco stared at Astoria.

“But with you,” she continued. “With you people would see that I’m more than that. That I’m worthy of attention and of love despite … being me.”

_This is wrong on so many levels,_ he could hear your voice in his head, clear as day.

“Have you met with the therapist yet?”, Draco suddenly asked out of the blue.

“What?” The Slytherin was thrown off by his question. “Yes.”

“Did you talk to her about this?”

Hearing this made her drop his hands, taking a few steps back. She buried her face in her hands, taking a deep breath. “Oh, fuck you, Draco!”, Astoria muttered. “Stop trying to analyze me!”

“I’m not!”, he assured her. “But … Astoria, this is so fucked up what you just said to me.”

She looked back up at him. “You’re such a hypocrite.”

“Excuse me?”

She chuckled. “You spent a few months with a Gryffindor and now you act like our values mean nothing to you when you are the one who used to scream ‘mudblood’ the loudest.”

Draco swallowed.

“Merlin, what is wrong with me,” Astoria sighed. “After everything I just confessed, you don’t find it in you to show me a little mercy and change your mind?” She smiled at him sadly. “Do you want to marry me?”

“No.”

_You love her._

***

The talk with Astoria left him feeling uneasy.

It handed after she asked Draco to marry her a second time and he declined. She nodded when she heard his answer, sniffled, wiped the remaining tears away and left. Not without saying “You’ll change your mind sooner or later”. When she was gone, she didn’t take the anxiety with her. Draco had to deal with that on his own. Now, as he walked through the halls of the old castle, his steps were stiff, and he had deep lines between his eyebrows.

“Calm down, she has no symptoms,” he mumbled to himself as he turned another corner.

_Yet._

What if he would be wrong after all? What if the curse wouldn’t skip another generation of Greengrass women and fall upon her? What if she would die and he made her last remaining years even more miserable in her eyes because he turned down the proposal?

_What if, what if, what if._

He wanted to talk to you about all of it. You’d tell him he didn’t have to feel bad. He didn’t owe Astoria. He shouldn’t be put in this position in the first place. You would find the right words. To be honest, Draco knew all of this himself. He just wanted to hear you say it out loud. Hear the words from another person to ensure that he was right. That he wasn’t crazy or selfish for not sacrificing his life, his future, for a dying girl.

“She’s not dying,” he reminded himself. A Hufflepuff boy passed him and frowned.

“My family will secure the future of the Malfoys.” It was the argument his mother had used against him countless times. He was certain that he’d hear it a lot more often soon. He was aware of how strong the argument truly was. His family could return to their former glory with all the luxury that came along with it. Fancy parties, status, high-paying careers – something he had been promised his whole life and that was stripped away the moment he was forced to become a Death Eater. The promise of a good life. An easy life.

Maybe life shouldn’t be easy for them. At least not so fast. Maybe his father shouldn’t come home from Azkaban one day to live like nothing ever happened. No, Lucius Malfoy deserved to suffer longer than his time in prison. And ultimately, so did his mother and Draco.

Draco gritted his teeth at his thoughts. He couldn’t marry Astoria. Not for that reason. Not to make the life of his family easier. His parents needed to work and plea for their redemption. Just like he did.

“Watch it, Malfoy!”, Seamus Finnigan hissed when he bumped into him. He came out of the library, a stack of books in his arms.

Draco didn’t look at him. Until now, he hadn’t even noticed that he was walking towards the library. It made sense though. The bag that hung from his shoulder seemed to become heavier with every step. The black notebook. He needed to write.

***

You sat alone on a table, hunched over a book. More of them piled up next to you, accompanied by an overused quill and bottle of ink.

_Exams,_ Draco remembered. How easy it was to forget those mundane things in the midst of all the sadness. Exams, followed by entrance tests to become an Auror. Draco smiled at the thought of you fighting evil. He was certain that you’d excel at it.

He stopped in the middle of the corridor, not caring about the annoyed huffs and curses from students who almost ran into him. He watched you. The way you sometimes licked the tip of your finger before turning a page. How you sighed and frowned when you didn’t understand a passage.

_You love her._ The words shot through his mind.

It was different to the scenes he had read in books when he finally saw it. When he blinked and it was suddenly so clear to him. His heart didn’t stop, his knees didn’t become weak, he didn’t hear violins around him. No, a ray of sunlight that fell through the window and hit your face, caused you to lift your head. In that moment, your eyes found his. A smile played around your lips as you waved at him and pointed at the seat next to you. And it was so clear to him, that he wanted this all along: to be with you. To come home to you.

_You love her,_ Astoria had said.

And he knew she was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be aware that I (the author) don't agree with the way purebloods (and Draco here) approached the eating disorder topic in this story. However, I believe it'd be more realistic for them to act that way. I'm curious about your thoughts! Did you expect her secret to be that? Thank you for reading!


	20. Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So uni is kicking my butt, this is why I'm a little slow with updating. I'm sorry! However, I will definitely finish this chapter! There are around 4-5 chapters left. Thank you so much for your support and your messages (I will reply to them tomorrow, I'm sorry for being so slow, I appreciate all of them so so much!!) <33

_Three weeks after the Winter Dance …_

On a Tuesday evening in March, clouds gathered over Hogwarts and darkened the sky. The few students who had been outside despite the cold wind had mere seconds to sprint to the castle before the gates to the heavens opened. Rain began to pour down, drenching everyone. You were one of those students.

You cursed once you got inside and whipped out your wand to cast a drying spell while hoping your Potions book wasn’t completely ruined. Even though Snape was no longer around to retract at least fifty housepoints for it, you still didn’t want to deal with Slughorns disappointed look that he’d give you. “Oh thank Merlin,” you mumbled when you saw that it was fine.

“Here, you lost this.”

You almost dropped your book when you heard the familiar voice. “Hermione!”, you said surprised.

The brown-haired girl stood in front of you, holding out a quill that had slipped out of your bag when you reached for the wand. She smiled awkwardly.

“Thank you.” You took the quill from her. She nodded but stayed silent, burying her hand in the pocket of her jacket. It had been three weeks since you last talked to her. The morning after the Winter Dance, you had tried to get her to talk to you. She refused and sent Ginny to let you know that she needed space. You tried one more time a few days later but still – Hermione didn’t want to see you.

Your own emotions shifted from guilt that you didn’t tell her, to anger that she didn’t want to speak to you for three freaking weeks, and then back to guilt because you knew you screwed up with your lies. Now that she was here, you understood that you just missed her. You missed not being able to talk and laugh with your friend.

“Where are you going?”, Hermione asked.

“To the common room.”

She hesitated and looked back and forth between you and the stairs behind you. “Can I come?”

Relief washed over you. That could only mean that she wanted to talk. “Sure,” you replied and smiled at her.

You walked together in silence for the first pair of stairs. Only when you turned a corner and entered the hall that lead to the next stair, did she speak up. Her words surprised you.

“I’m sorry.”

You looked at her, stunned. “What for?”

Her gaze was fixated on her shoes. “For not coming to you earlier. I was embarrassed.”

You frowned. “I’m the one who lied to you, Hermione.”

“I know,” she sighed, still not looking at you. “But I overreacted.”

You snorted. Not because you found this situation particularly amusing – to be honest, it was ridiculous. You stopped walking, Hermione did the same.

“You didn’t.” You shook your head. “Seriously. I should have told you the day it first happened. You’re my friend and what I did was wrong.” You paused. “I hurt you. And I’m deeply sorry for that.”

For the first time since you started walking, Hermione looked at you. She pursed her lips but there was no anger written on her face. When she spoke, there was certainty in her voice: “I know. What you did wasn’t okay.”

You couldn’t agree more. “You’re right.”

“I’m not mad that you slept with him, you know.”

“You’re not?”

“No. Although … it’s a little weird.” She wrinkled her nose and you chuckled softly.

“No, but I’m not mad about it”, you friend repeated herself. “He didn’t cheat on me. We weren’t dating then and …”, she hesitated, “I had my fun as well.”

You raised an eyebrow at her confession. “Oh?”

You could have sworn that a soft shade of red colored her cheeks but then again, it was rather dark in the hallway. Hermione gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “I’ll tell you about that later.”

Before you had the chance to say anything else, she continued: “Both of you obviously didn’t handle … the end of your whatever it was that you two had very well. I had my suspicions to be honest. You were both acting strange and not talking to each other for months.”

“Why didn’t you ask me?”

Hermione shrugged. “I thought that if my suspicions were correct … you would have come to me.”

You looked down when you heard that. “I’m sorry, Hermione.”

“Also, it sucked hearing it from Malfoy. Of all the people who could’ve told me.” She shook her head. “See, that’s the next thing. Malfoy knew, Ron knew, Ginny and you knew … It hurt being the only who didn’t know.”

“I’m sorry.” You didn’t know what else to say.

“It’s fine,” Hermione replied, her voice a little softer now.

You looked up at her. “It’s not.”

“It is,” she smiled at you. “Honestly, I’m not mad anymore. It just took me some time to realize it.”

You stared at her, somehow expecting this to be a test or a joke. You couldn’t believe she would forgive you for lying so long so easily. However, Hermione simply stood in front of, waiting for you to react.

“I missed you so much.” The words came from deep down within you, along with the relief and happiness that flooded your mind right this second. You pulled her into a tight hug.

Hermione laughed before returning the hug. “Missed you too,” she then mumbled.

“What about Ron though?”, you asked after a while and took a step back.

“What about him?”

You tilted your head. “Did you talk about it?”

“No,” she said calmly but couldn’t hide the way the corners of her lips twitched. “No, he deserves to suffer a little longer.”

Only one more lie left.

***

_Four weeks after the Winter Dance …_

“We already had a lesson on Amortentia in our sixth year, Professor,” Pansy whined and the sound instantly caused you to roll your eyes.

“Your exams are here sooner than you think,” Professor Slughorn replied, facing the blackboard. “I believe a little repetition will do you good.”

Exams. The word caused you to crinkle your nose. They were so close and yet you felt so far behind. It seemed as all you did was study but between the fight with Hermione and the drama with Astoria, your attention was certainly split.

Astoria … You looked over to her table where she stood next to Millicent Bulstrode, nose buried in the Potions book. Draco had told you some of what went down between him and her in the Room of Requirements. He said that he knew the reason why she wanted to marry him but he had also no right to let you know. It didn’t help your restless mind. You spent hours speculating and brooding over it. Was she sick? Would her parents disown her if she didn’t marry Draco? You wouldn’t be surprised by something like that. Was she pregnant?

None of your theories made any sense to you and Draco was steadfast. He didn’t comment on them or give you any more clues. You had to respect his ability to keep a secret.

“I think I did it wrong, can you smell anything?”, Theos voice pulled you from your thoughts.

The Slytherin came up to your table. Since the Winter Dance, you had spent increasingly more time with Draco and he had sneaked you in their common room on more than one occasion. It had resulted in you becoming friendly with Nott.

“Where’s Blaise?”, you asked as you stirred the liquid in the cauldron. “Isn’t he supposed to help you with it?”

Theo shrugged. “Probably off and begging Astoria to go to Hogsmeade with him.”

You chuckled and when you looked over to her table, sure enough, Blaise leaned against it, talking to her. “That’s still going on?”

Theo followed your gaze. “Very unsuccessfully, but yes.” He looked back at you. “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“The part of where he’s unsuccessful,” he explained. “She’s set on marrying Draco.”

You shrugged and reached too add the missing ingredient. “I’m set on having pudding for dessert tonight but it probably won’t be served, so let’s see what happens.”

The potion was supposed to be finished now and you leaned over it, carefully.

“You smell something?”, Theo asked again.

You closed your eyes and sniffed. Irritated, you opened them again and looked to your side, expecting Draco to be there. The scent of his cologne, mixed with mint and the smell of summer rain, was overwhelming. He wasn’t there. No, he stood a few feet away, talking to Professor Slughorn. _Huh._

“And?”, Theo began to sound a little impatient.

“Yes,” you nodded, still slightly confused. “I smell something.”

He groaned. “It’s my mistake then and not the book’s.” Before he went back to his table, he asked curiously: “What do you smell?”

“Your shampoo, Nott, what else?”, you joked. Just in this moment, Draco came back, catching the last bit of your conversation.

Theo chuckled. “Not in front of Draco, darling.” Then he winked at you and turned around.

The smile still on your face, you looked at Draco. “And? Did Slughorn know?”

Judging by the sour look on his face, the Professor hadn’t been able to answer his question.

“Seriously?”, Draco asked.

You tilted your head. “What?”

“Did you smell his shampoo?”

You stared at him. He avoided your eyes and instead flicked through the pages of the book, pretending as if he was reading something about Amortentia. You saw right through him.

“Are you jealous, Malfoy?”

His hand stopped in mid-air of the page for a second before he cleared his throat. “Of course not,” he replied quickly.

Your smile returned, turning into a full-size grin. “You’re jealous!”

“What would I be jealous about?!”, he sneered. “We’re not dating so …”

The grin stayed plastered on your face. “Right, we’re not but still you’re –”

“Don’t we have work to do?”, he interrupted you and sat down abruptly. “We still need to write down what we did.”

You giggled softly before you sat down next to him and grabbed your quill.

“It was just a joke,” you whispered while writing.

Draco didn’t reply and you were wondering if he had heard you. “What does it smell like for you then?”, he said after a while.

You hesitated. The smell of mint still wafting over to you. “I can’t smell anything today,” you lied. “Still fighting that cold from last week, I suppose.”

“Hmm,” Draco made.

“What do you smell?”

“You, Y/L/N.”

“Right,” you chuckled at his joke. “No, seriously, what do you smell?”

No more words came from him, only a wink. You rolled your eyes and chuckled again, pushing down the strange feeling emerging inside of you. When the class was over, you walked to the Great Hall together. Dinner was served and you had pudding for dessert.

***

_Five weeks after the Winter Dance …_

“Do you love him?” Hermione sat down across from you and dropped her books on the table.

You didn’t look up from your own studies. “Draco?”

“No.”

You looked up. _Oops._

“Ron, of course,” Hermione explained.

“Of course.” Why on earth would you think of Draco first at that question? But more importantly right now – why on earth would Hermione think that you loved Ronald Weasley?! You shook your head. “No, why?”

“I’m trying to understand … your thing.”

You closed your book. “Can I be honest?”

Hermione raised her eyebrows. “Are you serious right now, Y/N?”

Right, honesty was probably the only thing she expected from you these days. “I had a crush on him. I admit that,” you shrugged. You tapped on the cover of the book in front of you with your fingertips, before you continued. “And it hurt when he just dropped me like a hot potato.” The memory, even though it began to fade and become more and more irrelevant, still stung a little. “I don’t love him.” You looked into her eyes. “Never have.”

Hermione nodded slowly. “What about him then?”

“He loves you.” You smiled. “Everyone knows that.”

“But when he’s around you …”, she began.

“He doesn’t love me,” you interrupted her. “He’s just pissed that I’m with Draco.”

Hermione slumped against the back of the chair. “You really think that’s all?”

“Yes.” It was the truth. “His ego is hurt and he got confused. He loves you though. Did he apologize to you?”

Finally, Hermione smiled. A soft, shy smile. “A thousand times. He sent me love letters. God, they were so ridiculous.” She raised a hand to her mouth to hide the smile.

You grinned and reached for her hand. “I think you should give him a chance.”

“I love him so much,” your friend admitted with a soft sigh. Then the smile on her face vanished. “But what if … what if it happens again? With a different girl?”

“Then I will personally kick his butt.” You squeezed her hand tightly and Hermione chuckled. She looked down at the table as if she was thinking about something.

“Do you love _him_ then?” She raised her head again.

“Who?”, you asked, knowing damn well who she meant. However, you were certain your friend knew the answer to her question already.

***

_Six weeks after the Winter Dance …_

It was cold in the dorm that Draco shared with Blaise and Theo. The fact that you were wrapped in nothing but a black towel, didn’t help much with it. You shivered when you closed the bathroom door behind you and quickly ran over to the warm bed where your pretend-boyfriend still waited under the covers.

“Can you believe it’s almost April?”, Draco asked while he reached for the sweets on his nightstand. “School is nearly over.”

“Exams are almost here,” you replied, climbed over him and slipped under the blanket.

The Slytherin rolled his eyes as his chewed on another piece of candy. You wondered if they were still yours from the first weekend in Hogsmeade last year. Then Draco turned to face you and propped himself up on his elbows. “Stop playing scared,” it was almost a demand, “you’ll do great and you know it. I barely got to see you these last few weeks.”

“We saw each other every day, Draco,” you countered with a grin.

“It felt less.” He let himself fall on his back and put one arm behind his head.

“Did you make a decision yet?” The question left your mouth before you had time to think about it. This was a sensitive topic for him. Too many uncertainties in his life.

“I always have the option to marry rich,” he joked, looking at the ceiling.

You snorted. “Ha ha.”

***

_Seven weeks after the Winter Dance …_

“You’re staring. Again.”

Draco and you had found yourselves in his dorm once again. Theo and Blaise spent an awful amount of time at the library lately, giving you the freedom not to rely on the Room of Requirements so often.

It was a Saturday morning. You wished you could tell whether it was a beautiful spring day with birds chirping and beams of sunlight falling through the window – but from here, you were only able to see the green water of the lake.

“I’m not staring,” Draco mumbled. “I’m admiring.”

You smiled and when your eyes met his, a warm feeling spread in your chest. A feeling, you had experienced a lot more often in the past weeks. Sneaking up on you, always in the back of your mind as it tried to tell you something. Something, you already knew but were too scared to put a name on it. So instead, you pushed it back and tried to ignore it. “What are you admiring then?”

“You.” He whispered. “You’re beautiful.”

You pressed yourself closer to his body.

“I love you.”

At first you thought that you had accidentally fallen asleep again and this was some sort of weird dream your brain produced. But your eyes were open and you felt how Draco stopped breathing next to you; surely, this wasn’t a dream. The words had actually left his mouth. He had said them. They were out.

_Oh Merlin._

You sat up abruptly. “I’m sorry, what?”

His eyes were wide as he got up as well, turning his back towards you. He walked over to the closet with stiff movements and frantically searched through his drawers. “I don’t know where this came from,” he said in a hardened voice. “Forget it.”

_I love you._

The words rung in your ears like the sound of a pot crashing to the ground. You stared at his back. And then, when his eyes flickered over to you, the ringing stopped

_I love you._

You were suddenly very calm. “Draco –”

“Forget it,” he interrupted you and slipped over a black shirt. “Just do me the favor and pretend I never said anything.”

“Draco –”

“Draco!” The door flew open and crashed against the wall. You flinched.

Theo stood in the doorway, breathing heavily as if he had just sprinted up the stairs. “Oh, shit, sorry guys,” he exclaimed when he saw you and quickly looked away.

You needed a second to realize that you were sitting in Dracos bed – completely naked. Letting out a surprised gasp, you pulled up the covers.

Draco quickly stepped in front of him, blocking his view. “What do you want, Theo?”, he sneered, making it clear that this was not the right time.

Theo cleared his throat. “Okay, uhm,” he began, “Don’t panic but …”

Draco crossed his arms in front of his chest. “But what?”

You would later on call it intuition – but a part of you knew that the moment Theo stepped in, something would change. The tranquility and happiness between Draco and you had been going on for way too long already. You had pushed away the fears and uncertainty and allowed yourself to simply _be._ You should have known that it would come back to bite you in the ass.

“Spit it out,” Draco demanded.

Over his shoulders, Theo looked at you the same way he had a few weeks back during that Potions lesson. Fear gripped your heart. _Sorry,_ his eyes seemed to say.

“Your mother is in the common room, Draco. She’s talking to Astoria.” 

So this was the way it ends.


	21. Hypocrisy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, loves! Just wanted to tell in advance, that exams are coming up for me so I'll be much slower with posting. Sorry! However, there are only around 4 chapters left so the story will end soon. I'm so excited for you to read the end but I'm so sad at the same time! Thank you so much for your support <3

Draco looked at you and for a moment, time stood still.

You hadn’t moved – still in his bed, covers pulled up under your chin. But now a shadow darkened your eyes. It was worry – or maybe suspicion, as if you already knew something that he wasn’t aware of. Yet. Your gaze switched between himself and Theo. Draco was too focused on you to realize that his friend had the same exact look on his face.

_Oh, how beautiful you were_ , Draco thought, _how utterly gorgeous_. You belonged right there, he realized. Wrapped in his dark green covers, waiting for him to come back to bed and stay there, hidden away from the rest of the world.

“Draco,” your voice snapped him back into reality. “You should go. Greet your mother.”

His mother. He swallowed at the thought of the woman who currently sat in the common room, engaging in conversation with Astoria. Probably plotting something. He didn’t want to go down there. Didn’t want to see her face, kiss her cheek, ask her what she was doing here. To which she would reply something innocent and charming and both of them would know that it was a lie.

He already sensed why she was here. The school year came to an end and his time was running out. His mother had tolerated the relationship with you for way too long without voicing her concerns or disapproval. He knew that would change today.

“She’s right. You should go.” Theodore cleared his throat before adding: “I’ll get her out of here.”

Draco nodded slowly, his gaze still on you.

“Draco?”, you asked, trying to pull him out of your trance.

It worked. He snapped his head to Theo. “Not through the common room. She’s not supposed to meet Y/N like this.”

“Obviously,” his friend replied.

Draco turned and walked over to you. Reaching the bed, he leaned down and kissed you. One sweet, short kiss, barely touching your lips. Upon separating, he placed his hand on your chin. He was only inches away from your face.

Forgotten was the awkward scene that took place just minutes earlier. Looking into your eyes, he realized that he didn’t care if you never returned his feelings. He didn’t care if those three words never left your lips. For just being given the chance to love you was the greatest privilege of all. It was all he ever needed.

“ _I can’t fix you_ ,” you had said to him, months ago in the small bathroom. It was true, you couldn’t fix him. No one could. But you saved him nonetheless. In thousands little ways. Every time you smiled at him, laughed about his jokes, reached for his hand or pulled him into a hug. Every time you whispered his name, peppered his skin with kisses and stroked over the Dark Mark on his arm. Every little time, you saved a small part of him. Made him remember who he was. Who he could be.

“I’ll see you later,” you whispered and pressed another kiss to his lips. “It’ll be alright.” He heard the uncertainty in your tone.

“I know,” Draco replied. “I know it will be.”

Before he left the room, Draco turned around. He didn’t know it yet but the image of you, in his dorm, in his bed, would haunt him in the months to come.

***

Theodore hurried you out. After you had dressed yourself quickly, he took you by your hand and guided you out. He took another way than you were used to. A hidden door at the back of another dorm that gave you the chance to avoid the common room.

“Promise me to not tell anyone about this,” Theo said in a serious tone. “That way is a secret and the others will kick me out of Slytherin for telling you about it. It’s bad enough that …”

“I know, I know,” you interrupted him. “I’m a Gryffindor, you’re a Slytherin, heard it all before.”

Theo chuckled. “I forgot. Draco can be quiet the drama queen.”

“And he’s very repetitive,” you added. Your eyes wandered back to the door. “It’s bad, isn’t it? That she’s here?”

Theo sighed. “It’s certainly not good.” He paused. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think he’ll give in.”

Theo raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“To his mother,” you explained. “I don’t believe that he’ll go through with the engagement.”

Theo’s face remained unchanged – eyebrow still raised, confusion written over it.

“You don’t believe me,” you stated.

He opened his mouth and closed it again. “I don’t know,” he then admitted. “I know, he’s head over heels for you and something in him changed but … you know, how his family can be.”

“I don’t, actually.” You leaned against the wall. “I never met the Malfoys.”

“No?” Theo was visibly surprised. “Why not?”

You shrugged. “I’ve seen them at certain events, obviously. My parents made sure though that I didn’t get to close. They preferred the company of purebloods like … the Weasleys.”

A smirk played around his lips. “Granted, their company was probably a lot more fun as a child.”

“Definitely,” you agreed.

“Still, I’m not sure he’ll stand up against his parents like this,” Theo returned to your original conversation. “Maybe if you’ll stay by his side. But once he’s alone … I don’t think so.”

“Why should he be alone?”, you asked him.

Theo didn’t reply.

***

It was a beautiful day.

Rays of sunlight warmed your face and you had put your jacket beside you, sitting at the small wooden table in only jeans and t-shirt. A book laid in front of you but ever since you sat down, you hadn’t turned a single page. Distracted by the awakening nature around you, you let your eyes wander. Birds chirped in the tree nearby and the first crocuses bloomed all around you, coloring the meadows of Hogwarts in a mix of lilac and yellow.

Half of the students had found their way outside. Laughter and snippets of conversations mixed together with the songs of birds. A butterfly landed on your book. You watched it curiously traipsing around the page. _Spring is here_ , you thought when you admired at its red wings.

“This used to be one of my favorite places in Hogwarts.”

You flinched and the butterfly flew away. Suddenly, winter had returned.

You had never talked to her before but you still didn’t need an introduction – you’d recognize this woman everywhere: Narzissa Malfoy towered above you, a cold smile on her face. Her blonde hair fell down her shoulders, shimmering golden in the afternoon sun. She wore a light black coat that hugged her thin figure tightly around her waist.

“Hello, Y/N,” Mrs. Malfoy said in a soft tone and sat down in front of you. Every movement – from the way she smoothened the fabric of her coat to the way she placed her slender fingers on the table – happened so gracefully that even a goddess would feel clumsy next to her.

“Mrs. Malfoy,” you greeted her politely and unconsciously straightened your back. “Are you looking for Draco?”

She shook her head. “No.” The smile stayed plastered on. “I’m here for you – and he doesn’t need to know about it.”

“Oh.”

_Oh no._

Your heart began to pump a little faster. _He doesn’t need to know about it._ That couldn’t mean anything good – you didn’t have to be a seer to guess what this was about.

Mrs. Malfoy knew it too. “I believe we both know why I’m here,” she got right to the point, wasting no time with small talk. “I talked to Astoria and –”

“I …”, you interrupted her. Mrs. Malfoy blinked. Granted, she probably wasn’t used to it. You cleared your throat. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Malfoy, but I don’t want to be pulled in the middle of all this … mess.”

Right to the point. Just like her.

Mrs. Malfoy blinked again. Then, the smile returned to her lips. “Darling,”, she began and didn’t hide the amusement in her voice. “It’s too late for that. You’re already in the middle of _this mess_.” She paused as if she waited for you to respond. “Draco has to marry Astoria.”

You snorted. A part of you wondered if this conversation was actually happening or if you were still asleep in Dracos bed and it was nothing more than a bad dream.

Her gaze softened. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh, I do understand,” you replied, rubbing the back of your neck.

“No,” she objected. “No, you don’t. Your family is not like ours even though some of them like to pretend they are.”

You squinted your eyes. _How dare she,_ you thought, _how dare she come here and talk about my family._ “Then explain it to me,” you demanded with a tight-lipped smile and crossed your arms in front of your chest. “Why are you doing this to him? Hurting him?”

For the first time since Mrs. Malfoy sat down, her expression fade. A shadow darkened her eyes and her lower lip quivered. A second later, it was gone. “It’ll pass. Pain fades over time.”

You shook your head. “Not always.”

She looked at you and gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “I don’t want to argue with you and I don’t want to explain myself. I simply came here to request that you end your relationship with my son.”

You scoffed. “You’re unbelievable.”

“It’ll be better for his family and himself.” With a stern gaze she added: “And Astoria.”

A bitter laugh escaped your throat before you could stop it. You raised a hand to your mouth and lowered your gaze, shoulders still moving up and down from suppressed laughter. “You’re unbelievable,” you finally exclaimed. “Honestly, you have the _audacity_ to come here, to your son’s school, to ask his girlfriend to break up with him?! Why would I even do that? Why makes you think that I won’t go and tell him right now what you demanded?!” You stared at her in disbelief.

Mrs. Malfoy didn’t seem surprised by your sudden outburst. She nodded calmly and reached into the pocket of her coat. She pulled out a white envelope, sealed with the Malfoy family emblem, and placed it in front of her. “This.”

You looked at the woman through narrow eyes and then down at the envelope. “What is it?”

“It contains details about your sister. Her location.”

Your heart sunk. “No.” You shook your head. “How would you –”

“Know?”, Mrs. Malfoy asked and raised an eyebrow. “My family might be ruined but I still hold some power over some people.”

Clouds covered the sun in this moment and a shadow fell upon the two of you. In your mind, the birds had stopped singing and the voices of the other students were drowned out by the sound of your own heartbeat. You had expected anything from her – except for this. And now it seemed so fitting – pulling your family, your sister, into your mess? Narzissa Malfoy truly mastered the art of involving others into her own drama.

“All the information in here is true,” she continued. “You can trust me.”

“Trust you …”, you mumbled, wearing a wry smile on your lips. Your eyes were still glued on the envelope.

“Your parents will receive the letter tonight if …”

“If I break up with Draco,” you ended her sentence. Your hands began to tremble and you clasped them together, quickly hiding the display of weakness.

_Break up with Draco._

The words rung in your ears. Funny, how saying it loud, how just the thought of ending it, made something else crystal clear: you loved him. You loved him with every fiber in your body and the thought of walking away from him made you feel sick to your stomach. Your body knew for a while now. The attraction you felt towards the Slytherin wasn’t be purely physical and the constant need to be around him couldn’t be broken down to a platonic friendship. You loved him. You loved him, you loved him, you loved him.

Seconds passed before you lifted your gaze and met her eyes. They showed nothing but friendliness. A strange contrast to the hostility of her actions. “No,” your voice was calm and steady. You had decided. “No, I don’t care. She made her choice. I want nothing to do with her.”

Mrs. Malfoy smiled. “It’s your decision. However, in this case,” she reached into her pocket again to pull out a second envelope, “your parents will receive this.”

You frowned.

“A detailed letter about your … refusal,” she explained. “Telling them how you’re the reason they’ll never find their first-born daughter now.”

And just like that, your decision was shaken up by her. A shiver ran down your spine. The consequences of that second letter were clear to you. The moment either of your parents read it, you didn’t have to bother coming home ever again. When they heard that you chose a boy, and not just any boy but _Draco Malfoy_ over them – their hearts would break. The palm of your hands felt clammy all of the sudden. They’d never forgive you. You would lose them. You would lose them over Draco. Over _her_.

Your mind raced as you desperately thought of a way out of this. A way where you could explain it to your parents or trick Mrs. Malfoy but fear took over. You would lose him. She would tear him away from you. Your vision became blurry and you averted your eyes, trying to hold back the tears.

Mrs. Malfoy leaned over the table and cupped your cheek with her hand. They were soft and warm and smelled like expensive lotion. She wiped away a tear with her hand. “Oh, Darling,” she said softly. The gentle touch reminded you of your own mother.

“You’re so cruel,” your voice broke. “Why are you so cruel?”

She lowered her gaze for a moment and when she met your eyes again, you suddenly saw the eerie similarity between her and Draco for the first time. They had the same eyes and now that the friendliness had faded, the desperation that took its place reminded you all too much of him. Back in his bathroom in what felt like a lifetime ago. It sent another shiver down your spine.

“It can’t be me,” Mrs. Malfoy whispered. “I can’t be the one to break his heart again. Don’t you see? It has to be this way.”

You let out a shaky breath, barely holding back the whimper that came together with the tears. “What if … what if …”

She leaned back again. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” she interrupted your stuttering. “You start dating again and I will personally make sure that your parents end up in court.”

The sudden coldness in her voice made you freeze. “What?”, you croaked.

“What your sister turned out to be –”

“My parents have taught us nothing but kindness and tolerance,” you cried out. “It’s not their fault!”

Mrs. Malfoy turned her head, trying to see if someone had heard you. “Oh, I believe you,” her tone softened again. “I do. I’m just not sure the rest of the country will after …”

“Stop!” You lifted your hand and shook your head violently while you stared at her with wide eyes. “This is insane, you’re insane!”

A flicker of pain darted across her face. It was gone in less than a second. “I’m not. I’m looking out for my son.” Did she truly believe that? “I never wanted it to end like this. Trust me.”

You let your head hang down, suddenly feeling tired and exhausted. How could she do this? How could any parent who said they loved their child do this? Come here and threaten you? For what? An engagement with a sick girl? None of it made sense to you.

“Please, Y/N,” Mrs. Malfoy whispered and reached over to take your hand. “Please, it’s not worth it.” She sighed. “You’re putting a teenage love above your family? Above the well-being of your sister? Above the reputation of your parents?”

“I … I love him,” you stammered.

This was wrong. This was so, so wrong. Draco should have heard the words first. Not her.

She smiled sadly. “He loves you too. And I’m so happy he got to experience it. The beauty of a first, real love. I’m so grateful for you and what you’ve done for him.”

You wanted to puke.

“He smiled at me earlier today. A true smile. You’re so good for him.” Another sigh. Mrs. Malfoy probably felt as tired and exhausted as you did. “Still, it changes nothing. It has to end. You might be good for him but that doesn’t mean you’re right for my son.”

You stared at her. “He’ll never forgive you.”

“He’ll never know,” she replied.

More silent tears rolled down your cheek. She saw it. “Don’t cry, darling.” With a last pat on your hand, she stood up and put the envelopes back into her robe. “I have to go now. Do we have an understanding?”

Did you? In your head you thought about the moment your parents would read the letter. The disappointment, they’d feel. The anger. The terrifying realization that they had lost both daughters to the Malfoys in one way or another. The last remaining feeling of normalcy that would be stolen away by Mrs. Malfoys delicate handwriting.

You got up slowly, your legs trembling. When you looked at her, your eyes told her the answer. She had won.

“I knew you’ll make the right decision,” a sick look of approval appeared in her eyes. “Thank you. Thank you for everything. Truly.”

“Oh, fuck you,” you spat out in response.

She raised one eyebrow. “You see the hypocrisy in all of this, don’t you? You want Draco to stand up against his family for the sake of his happiness but when it’s your turn to do the same, you fail.”

***

You didn’t cry on your way to the Gryffindor common room. You walked to the castle and up the stairs, dazed and confused. Eyes locked on the ground and no coherent thought formed in your mind.

The realization of what had just happened dawned on you, the moment you had reached our dorm and let yourself fall on the bed. You were alone, thankfully. Your head resting on the soft pillow, you looked outside the window. A few white, fluffy clouds adorned the baby-blue sky. The tears came together with the crow that passed your window. Sobs started to climb their way up your throat until you couldn’t hold them back. Your body began to tremble and shake when you finally lost the battle against them and let go. You curled up into a fetal position, sobbing and whimpering and sinking into the pain. It hurt. It hurt so much and the knowledge that the worst – _telling him_ – was yet to come made your heart burst.

You didn’t know for how long you had cried. At some point you fell asleep. It was a restless sleep from which you jolted when the door to the dorm opened. Outside the sky had changed into a bright orange and the room was bathed in golden light. You blinked in confusion. The tears had dried on your cheeks and your mouth felt dry as well. The pain in your chest was drowned out by the stabbing in the back of your head.

Ginny stood in the door. She wore her Quidditch uniform and you remembered that you missed training. The look on her face confirmed it.

“You better have a reason for –” She trailed off when she saw you and her face paled. You guessed that you looked the same way you felt. “What did he do?”, she suddenly demanded and her voice almost resembled a growl. “What did that asshole do? I will break his fucking nose and –”

Tears dwelled up in your eyes again. _Draco,_ you thought. You yearned for him to be here, to hold you, to tell you it’d all turn out fine. Ginny rushed over to you, curses that would make a muggle sailor blush slipping out of her mouth. She sat down next to you and pulled you into a tight embrace. “It’s alright,” she whispered when you sniffled into her uniform, “I’ll kill him, I swear to Merlin.”

You didn’t reply, not feeling up to the task of explaining anything that had gone down a few hours earlier.

The door opened again. Hermione. She didn’t look at you when she walked in, keeping her eyes locked on the pages of a book in her hand. “Hi guys,” she mumbled absently. “You know, Y/N, Malfoy is outside, waiting like a lost puppy and –”

She stopped abruptly. The name in her mouth caused you to sniffle. Another wave of pain washed over you. _Draco,_ you lifted your head, _Draco is here._

“Oh,” she stared at you and dropped her book and bag on a chair. She frowned in concern. “What happened?”

“Malfoy’s outside?”, Ginny repeated. “Fucking fantastic, I will kill that son of a –”

“No!”, you finally exclaimed. Your voice broke and you cleared your throat. “No, it’s okay.”

“Nothing’s okay!”, she looked at you with wide eyes. “Look at you!”

“Please, Ginny,” you said weakly. “Please, not now.”

***

Draco stood in front of the entrance to the Gryffindor room, feeling out of place. He leaned against the railing of the stairs, arms crossed in front of his chest as he watched students entering and leaving. Each time the portrait opened, he hoped to see your smile and each time he was met with the confused looks from younger Gryffindors who didn’t expect to see a Slytherin in this part of the castle.

“Granger,” he called out when he finally saw another familiar face, coming up the stairs.

The girl looked up from the book in her hands and turned her head in his direction. “I haven’t seen her,” she said without waiting for his question.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Well, she has to be in there. Tell her to come out when you see her in there.”

“Never heard of ‘please’ and ‘thank you’, Malfoy?”, she asked and raised her eyebrows.

Draco squinted his eyes. Granger waited. “Thank you,” he finally pressed out through gritted teeth.

A smug smile formed on her lips. “You’re very welcome.”

A few minutes passed once she had entered the common room. Draco began to wonder if you were actually in there. He shifted from one leg to another and just when he was about to turn around and leave, the portrait swung open again. You. Finally.

The smile on his face stayed there only for a moment. It washed away when you stepped out and he saw your face in the light of the hallway. You looked absolutely devastated. Your face was swollen with red, puffy eyes, and your shoulders trembled slightly. Your posture was hunched. When his eyes locked with yours, cold fear gripped him.

“What did she say to you?”, he said in a pressed tone, frozen in place.

A sad look appeared on your face. “Nothing.” You came closer and leaned against him. Draco put his arm around you instinctively. He didn’t believe you.

“Let’s go some –”

“No, Draco,” you whispered against his shirt. It made him shiver. You lifted your head to face him; tears rolled down your cheeks.

_No,_ he thought, _oh, please no._ But he already knew what would happen. He saw it the moment he looked into your eyes.

“Why?”, he asked.

The pain in your eyes shattered him. “I’m so sorry,” you croaked. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Obviously, because what you’re about to do is bullshit,” Draco exclaimed and clenched his jaw. “She talked to you, didn’t she?!”

Draco felt so stupid. How surprised had he been when his mother visited him this morning and didn’t lose a word about the engagement. She was just there to talk. She had missed him. Merlin, how dumb and naïve he was. The stung of betrayal made his chest feel tight. It must have been his mother. Everything had been fine. In fact, everything had been picture perfect until she showed up.

“Draco …”, you whimpered. His name on your lips made him shiver. You leaned in and your lips found his. The kiss tasted like tears and desperation and everything the two of you shouldn’t be.

“Don’t,” he mumbled after he broke the kiss, “don’t do this.”

“We have to end it.”

Suddenly, it was hard for him to breathe. “No, we don’t.”

“Yes, we do … and you know it.” Draco saw how you struggled with the words. “It’s best for you … and your family.”

He shook his head. No, those weren’t your thoughts. “You don’t believe that. I know, you don’t. This isn’t you talking.”

“You’re hurting them,” you sniffled. Draco kissed away a tear on your cheek and breathed in the familiar scent of your shampoo. _No, this wasn’t happening._

“I don’t care about that. I don’t care about what they say or what they think is best for me. I only care about you.”

Your next words made his world crumble: “But I don’t care about you.”

Draco froze. The hand around your hips grabbed your skin tightly as if he needed to hold on to in order to avoid collapsing on the ground. “You’re lying.”

“I like you as a friend but …”

He scoffed and wondered at what point he’d wake up from this obvious nightmare.

“I can’t be with you.”

“Did my mother threaten you?”, he then asked. It seemed the only logical explanation for him.

“What?” You frowned.

“Everything’s fine until she shows up,” Draco explained. “What did she say to you?”

You hesitated and Draco was almost sure that he found the answer to your sudden shift in behavior. Oh, how wrong he truly was.

“It’s not what she said, Draco,” you began. “It’s what you said.”

His heart stopped. _Oh._

“You told me you love me.”

Of course. The missing puzzle piece. It wasn’t his mother. It was him all along. How could he have not seen that? The words slipped out this morning, just before Theo barged in. You probably wanted to end it right then and there.

Draco had overstepped. He had forgotten that this wasn’t a real relationship and that you were only in it to get back at Weasley. None of it was real. The friendship and the sex, maybe, but the rest was nothing more than a daydream.

“Being with you … it’s fun but …” Every word was another dagger plunged into his stomach. He let go of you.

“I didn’t expect you to be able to tell me the same right away,” he whispered.

“It’s not a question of when I’ll be able to say it …” You wiped away more tears with your hand. “I can’t be with you. I can’t bare it. I realized it this morning. It’s … it’s too much.” You took a long breath. “You are too much.”

Draco had turned his head away, not being able to look at you for a second longer. He stared at the paintings across from him while his hands gripped the railing of the stairs so tightly, the knuckles turned white.

“I don’t want to fix you, Draco.”


	22. Astoria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you so much for your amazing feedback on my story! I love hearing your opinions and thoughts, it always makes my day! This chapter is a little shorter than usual but the next one will be longer than usual :D Enjoy! <3

Happiness.

It was one of the feelings Astoria expected to set in when Pansy told her the news at breakfast.

Happiness because you’d be no longer a concern of hers. Relief that the plan Mrs. Malfoy told her about worked. And hope – hope for a future with him. Not the man she loved but the man she needed. Weeks and months she had spent worrying, plotting, desperately trying to find a way to get you out of the picture – and now you were. However, she felt none of what she had expected. Because just when Pansy finished her sentence, Astoria’s gaze landed on Draco who came through the doors of the Great Hall, accompanied by Theo and Blaise.

Her stomach plummeted at the sight of their grim faces. They weren’t talking or laughing. Even Blaise who was always ready to crack a joke in the most inappropriate situations walked towards their table with a blank expression on his face. Theo kept glancing at Draco, worry written all over his forehead. The same worry that filled Astoria when she saw his pale, grey face.

Draco must not have gotten a lot of sleep the night prior, judging by the dark circles underneath his eyes which he kept locked on the ground and then on the plate as soon as he sat down. Astoria watched him playing mindlessly with the knife next to his plate and didn’t seem to notice how Theo put a piece of bread on it.

“Eat something,” he said but the blond man didn’t react. Any remaining hunger left Astoria’s body.

“He looks like shit,” Daphne stated in between bites. She had turned her head in the direction of the Trio as well, sharing a knowing glance with Theodore.

Astoria crinkled her nose as she looked her sister. Even with no make-up and in an oversized sweater was she the prettiest girl at this table.

“He does,” Pansy agreed. “But he’ll recover, right? I mean, that little adventure he and that Gryffindor had was just that, wasn’t it?” She looked at her friends. “An adventure? It’s time for him to return to the real world.”

_Return to the real world._ Astoria nodded. Yes, it was time for him to do just that. Return to the real world _with her._ But why did she steel feel this way? Why did the sting in her heart not fade?

“I’m not sure.” Daphne shrugged. “I know first-hand what he’s like after an adventure … It’s different. He probably loved her.”

Astoria suppressed the urge to snort. Suddenly, her sister turned her head and looked directly at Astoria. “Makes you wonder …”

The younger Greengrass narrowed her eyes and her cheeks turned red.

“Wonder about what?”, Pansy asked, completely clueless.

“If it’s worth it.”

“If you have something to say, Daphne, say it,” Astoria hissed. Pansy looked back and forth between the two sisters with wide eyes, irritated about the sudden change in the conversation.

Daphne didn’t flinch. She leaned forward and spoke with a lowered voice: “What did Mrs. Malfoy say to you yesterday?”

Anger bubbled up inside of Astoria. The same anger that had plagued her for so long. She had thought it’d leave her as soon as you were no longer around but only now did she realize that it wasn’t you who made her so mad. “Are you suggesting …?”

“I’m not suggesting anything,” her sister cut her off. “I’m asking you a question.”

Astoria put down her knife abruptly and stood up with so much force that she hit her leg on the table and a glass fell over. She was done with this. With her.

Daphne rolled her eyes and took a bite from her toast. “Where are you going?”, she then asked.

“The library,” her sister said in a sharp tone. “A place where I don’t have to listen to your groundless accusations and your nonsense about sleeping with Draco.” She tried to sound stern when she spoke but the anger kept scratching at her tone and a smug smile showed on her sisters face. “What?”, Astoria spat out.

“I’m right then?”, Daphne asked. “You and Mrs. Malfoy had something to do with this very sudden end of their relationship? Let me guess, Mother was involved as well?”

The amusement in her voice disgusted Astoria. She opened her mouth to say something and then closed it again. With a huff, she turned on her heels and left the Great Hall, balling her delicate fingers into fists when she passed Draco who still hadn’t touched his food.

“That was mean, Daphne,” she heard Pansy say behind her.

“It was necessary.”

Once the chatter from the other students began to fade away behind her, the anger vanished and got replaced by tears that filled her eyes. She didn’t know if she was angry or sad or maybe both. All she knew was that she wasn’t supposed to feel this way. When Mrs. Malfoy had come to Hogwarts, she had told her about how she’d handle this mess. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Draco’s mother said and squeezed her cold, trembling hands. “It’ll be fine. I promise you.” And Astoria had been relieved – relieved that someone seemed to care for her. For her pain and fears and by Merlin, in that moment she wished for nothing more than for her own mother to be more like Mrs. Malfoy. A wish that now might even come true. However, seeing the pain she caused Draco left her feeling guilty and ashamed instead of hopeful.

A body slamming into hers pulled her back into reality. Astoria stumbled and caught herself in the last minute. “Oh,” she let out a sharp breath.

“Sor-,” you swallowed the last syllable of the word.

Astoria’s breath got caught in her throat. You looked surprisingly well put together. She didn’t know what she had expected – after all, she didn’t think you to be someone who’d suffer publicly but seeing you so calm and tidy did leave her a little irritated. Your eyes were the ones that betrayed you – looking past the blank expression in them, Astoria noticed the slight redness. It was the same redness she had seen one too many times in the mirror after nights spent crying. You must have tried to fix it but Astoria still saw the residues of the restlessness you had endured the night prior.

“I’m sorry.” The words slipped out and she wasn’t sure if she meant the bump in that happened just now.

You looked at her as if you were searching for something hostile in the sudden friendliness of Astoria’s tone. When you didn’t find anything, you mumbled: “It’s fine.” You kept on walking down the hall.

“I –”, Astoria started but then closed her mouth again.

You stopped, slowly turning around. “What?” The blank expression was no longer seen on your face. It got replaced with cold annoyance. You looked at her expectantly but Astoria was at a loss for words. “I’m surprised you didn’t already prepare for this moment.”

Astoria blinked. “Excuse me?”

“He’s yours, congrats,” you said bitterly. “You won. You and your family and this fucked up world you’re still trying to uphold won.”

There it was again – the same guilt she had felt when she looked at Draco during breakfast. “I …I did what I had to do.”

“Right,” you scoffed. “You’re a Slytherin after all.”

A line appeared between Astoria’s brows but you had turned your back on her once more. “Get off your high horse for once, will you?”, she called after you, her wits returning.

You stopped but face her.

“Stop acting all high and mighty,” Astoria continued coldly. “You made the decision to break up with him.”

“I had no choice.”

Astoria wondered if she had only imagined the words from your mouth. They were spoken so softly, so broken, they barely reached her. “That’s a lie and you know it.”

You stood there for another second before slowly beginning to walk down the long hallway. Astoria watched you, frozen in place. Everything she ever wanted was right in front of her. The only thing she had to do was reach for it. So what was stopping her?

***

It was guilt that stopped her. Guilt that didn’t leave Astoria for days.

It came in waves – washing over her when Draco sat next to her in class, his eyes searching for you in the classroom. It threatened to drown her, suffocate her, when she saw how the corners of his mouth twitched when he heard you talk to your friends. He was trying so desperately to hide his pain, to return to the way he was at the beginning of the school year. Before you had the chance to steal his heart and crush it mere moments later. However, Astoria saw right through him. He was too far gone to return to the man he was before he found you. Now, whenever Astoria pretended not to look, Draco watched you from the shadows of the last row and the bleachers of the Quidditch field. In those moments, the guilt returned, accompanied by regret and shame and she wondered if it was worth it.

Just like Daphne had asked.

Astoria never saw the two of you together again. You stayed with your friends, the Weasley girl and Granger rarely leaving you out of their sight. The occasional hateful glance was sent your way by Weasley but you full-heartedly ignored her. Her, and Draco, and the rest of the Slytherins. Well, not all of them. One early evening, the sun had just begun to set, she saw Blaise and Theo sitting down next to you outside but Pansy had pulled her away before Astoria got the chance to eavesdrop.

A week passed and Draco remained only a shell of himself.

“His nightmares returned,” Blaise told her one afternoon in the common room.

“It’s not like they ever left,” Theo chimed in, not looking up from the book in his lap.

Blaise rolled his eyes. “They’re way worse now though,” he replied and leaned over to Astoria. “He’s using that potion again.”

“He’ll be fine, Blaise,” Theo closed the book and shot his friend a warning glance. “Stop gossiping now.”

Astoria felt the glare from her sister from across the common room in that moment. _Happy now?,_ her eyes seemed to ask. _Are you finally happy, sister?_

No. No, she wasn’t.

And still she wouldn’t a change a thing.

***

It was late when Astoria left the library and made her way back down to the Slytherin common room. Her eyes burned, her neck hurt, and she kept yawning, longing for her soft pillow and warm blanket.

BANG.

Astoria tripped on the steps and barely caught herself by grabbing onto the railing. She continued downstairs, slower now, almost tip-toeing. Reaching the end of the stairs and the hallway, she guessed the sound had come from the end of it. She stopped and pulled out her wand. All sorts of ghosts and creatures found their way into the castle from time to time and Astoria was not keen on a night trip to the hospital wing.

“Screw you, Malfoy!”

Astoria’s eyes widened. You.

“Oh, so we’re using last names again?”

Draco.

_“Fine, Y/L/N.”_

Two figures appeared at the end of the hallway and Astoria quickly jumped to the side, hiding behind the statue of a knight. Her heart pounded in her chest. She should leave. It was the proper thing to do as this was clearly a conversation not meant for her ears. However, Astoria couldn’t bring herself to walk away. She peaked around the statue.

You came down the hallway with long strides and Draco followed you. Both of your faces were flushed with anger.

“What do you want from me?”, you asked him and even Astoria shivered from the coldness in your voice.

“What I want from you?”, Draco sneered. “I want you to stop lying!”

Oh-oh. Astoria watched as you whirled around to face the Slytherin. “When will you get this into your head, Malfoy? I’m not lying to you!” Every word was accompanied by a tap of your finger against his chest. Draco caught your hand by your wrist and held it still. You let out a sharp hiss.

“Merlin, when will you ever stop this charade?” He shook his head in disbelief and his voice was as cold as ice when he continued. Astoria felt awfully reminded of a younger Draco. “All you ever do is lie! You lie to your parents, your friends, everyone who you say means something receives _nothing_ from you except lies and deceptions. It seems to be the only thing you’re truly good at, the only thing that –”

“Shut up!”, your voice was shrill and you tried to pull away from Draco but he held tightly on to your wrist.

The scene unfolding in front of Astoria engulfed her and so she didn’t notice how loosely she was holding on to her wand – until it hit the ground beneath her feet, the wood clanking against the stones. Draco’s eyes shot in her direction at the sudden noise. Astoria gasped and hid behind the statue again. She put a hand over her mouth, her heart beating even faster now. Had he seen her? She fully expected him to be coming her way but no footsteps could be heard. Astoria remained in her position for a few more moments before slowly bending down to pick up her wand. She let it slip into the pocket of her cloak before she peaked around the corner again.

Draco’s gaze was fully fixated on you again. He had come closer and Astoria saw how his mouth moved. She made out faint whispers, yet both of them had lowered their voices enough for her to be unable to understand the words spoken. She watched the two of you with furrowed brows and then her eyes widened at what happened next:

Draco let go of your hand and pushed you up against the stone wall in one swift movement. You didn’t resist. Instead you hissed something at him before looking to your side. Draco grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him, leaning in even closer.

Astoria’s mouth felt dry all of the sudden and the realization of what he was going to do next dawned on her. A strange sensation settled in her stomach and the feeling of watching something she had no right to see became overwhelming. She watched your hips move forward slightly and wondered if it was intentional or just a natural reaction to his touch. You whispered something – was it a curse? A confession? Or just another lie to protect yourself from the damage you had done.

The sensation in her stomach grew stronger. Astoria began to feel sick – and then it happened. You tilted your head and leaned in. When your lips touched, Astoria finally turned her gaze away.


	23. Promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Most of my exams are done, so I'm back with another chapter <3 I highly recommend rereading chapter 22 for this one. also, pls be aware that in the german version "Narcissa" is spelled "Narzissa", so don't be confused about the spelling. I hope you enjoy it! <3

He appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

For days, you had avoided him. Sat as far away as possible from him in class, stayed close to Ginny and Hermione, didn’t give him a chance to even approach you. And now, way past curfew you met him on a random hallway near the library.

The sight of him made your heart jump. His eyes widened. The two of you stood in front of each other, quietly waiting for the other to make a move. You took all of him in and tried your best not to wince when you realized how sickly he looked. _It was your fault._

Draco spoke first. “What are you doing here?” His voice was strained.

You hadn’t heard his voice in what felt like weeks and you took a moment to process it. “Owlery,” you said finally. “I was on my way to the Owlery. I need to send a letter to my parents.”

He nodded. “I heard what happened. I’m sorry.”

You looked down. It was strangely comforting to hear it. “I know.” You wanted to say more but no words came to mind. None that would fit your current situation anyways. “I should leave,” you mumbled and straightened your back. When you walked past him, you smelt a whiff of his cologne and held your breath. You didn’t dare to look at him and resumed your way towards the Owlery.

“We need to talk.”

He had raised his voice and the words echoed in the dark hallway. You hesitated. “Draco …” Then you shook your head. “No.”

“Y/N, you owe me.” You heard his footsteps. “You owe me an explanation.”

It was then that you finally turned around. “I gave you one.”

Draco scoffed. “You gave me shit.”

“I gave you what you deserve,” you shot back. Each word struggled to come out. Lies, so many lies. “I told you, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be with you. We took this too far.”

You didn’t look him in the eyes but there was no reason to. The pain in his voice showed you that the words had their desired effect: “I still don’t believe you.”

“That’s not my problem,” you said. All the exhaustion from the past week suddenly rushed back and you felt your eyes beginning to burn. You wiped over your face, trying to keep your composure. “Draco,” you began and then you noticed something in his hand. An all too familiar bottle. Ginny had the same one on her nightstand. “What –”

Draco smiled bitterly and held up the sleeping medicine. “Thanks to you.”

“Screw you, Malfoy.” You turned around and left.

_“You have to eat something,” Ginny gently touched your shoulder and you pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulder. She sighed but her hand stayed on your skin, warmth radiating from it. “Please, you have barely –”_

_“I’m not hungry.” You cleared your throat. It felt so raspy. Speaking hurt._

_“Come on, Y/N,” Ginny tried again. “It’s still early. If we leave now, no one will even see us. You don’t even have to get dressed. You can go in your pajamas.” You heard the smile in her voice. “How much fun would that be.”_

_A smile tugged on your lips but you couldn’t bring yourself to move a muscle. You were tired. So tired._

“Oh, so we’re using last names again?” Draco followed you down the hallway with long strides. _“Fine, Y/L/N.”_

Your face burned, not with anger but with shame. His nightmares had returned and it was all your fault. The rational part of your brain told you that you weren’t responsible for his suffering. The break up was merely one tiny puzzle piece, one tiny thing that added up to all the drama and hurt in his life, but still _it could have been avoided._ The pure knowledge of that drowned out that part of your brain. And what was even worse – you couldn’t change it now. Couldn’t help him. Not now. Not ever.

“What do you want from me?”, the coldness in your voice frightened yourself.

“What I want from you?”, Draco sneered behind you. “I want you to stop lying!”

_Astoria was gorgeous. You had noticed it before but now you saw her in an entirely different light. When bitter words spilled out of you, a desperate attempt to cut through her skin and into her heart, her expression changed but her beauty stayed._

_Their wedding photos will be on the front page of The Daily Prophet, you realized and the thought flipped your stomach. She’ll look perfect and happy and he … will he smile?_

You whirled around and nearly bumped into him. “When will you get this into your head, Malfoy? I’m not lying to you!” Every word was accompanied by a tap of your finger against his chest. Draco caught your wrist and held it still. It was unexpected and his tight grip hurt. You let out a sharp hiss.

“Merlin, when will you ever stop this charade?” Draco stared at you. The disgust in his eyes send shivers down his spine. You had seen this look before on him but it had never been directed at you. “All you ever do is lie! You lie to your parents, your friends, everyone who you say means something to you receives _nothing_ from you except lies and deceptions. It seems to be the only thing you’re truly good at, the only thing that –”

“Shut up!”, you shrieked. You tried to pull away from him but he held tightly on to your wrist.

_You read the letter over and over and over until you memorized every last word of it. Your fathers handwriting was shaky, stretched letters, barely readable as if he wrote them in a hurry. Lines were smeared, dots missing, such a strange contrast to the neatly put-together man._

_They found Alissa. Your sister. She was alive and well, hiding out in Southern Germany with two other Death Eaters that fled the country after the Battle of Hogwarts. They changed their appearances and names and got low-paying jobs in local muggle stores. You almost snorted when you read it. Your sister, the same one who believed muggles should be enslaved, now served them? Oh, what bitter irony this life kept in store for us._

_Two days after the letter reached you, her face appeared on The Daily Prophet. You let out a sharp breath. It’s been years since you had last seen her face and time had not been treating her kindly. Sunken cheeks and hair that hung down in greasy strands – your hands started to shake. There was barely any resemblance between the woman that stared at you with blank eyes and the sister you grew up with._

_“LAST DEATH EATERS FINALLY FOUND”, the headline said. You skimmed over the words but folded the newspaper and put it away once they got to a gruesome retelling of the Cleansing of Edinburgh._

_Narzissa had kept her promise and you hated her for it._

_You felt the stares of your classmates burning holes into your cloak and Hermione reached for your hand to squeeze it tightly. When you looked up however, your eyes were drawn to him._

_He looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face. You wondered if he knew. If he had figured it out._

Tears burned in your eyes. He’s right, you thought, he’s right about all of it. Draco abruptly turned his head; a clanking sound was heard at the end of the hallway. You barely noticed it.

“I have to stay away from you,” you whispered and he looked back at you. “Why can’t I stay away from you?” Your voice broke.

“You know why,” Draco replied. “It’s why my nightmares returned too.”

“Draco …” His name rolling from your tongue – it felt so right.

“We need one another.” He came closer. “We … whatever it was that we had, _it worked_.”

You let out a shuddering breath. “It didn’t.”

His gaze hardened again. “Stop fucking lying,” he hissed and suddenly, he let go of your hand and pressed you up against the wall. You yelped.

“Stop forcing something that isn’t there.” He was close, so damn close. “You have a wild imagination, Malfoy.”

He scoffed. “Look at me and say this again.” He grabbed you by your chin and forced you to look at him. “I said, _look at me_ ,” he growled. “Tell me it was all in my imagination. Every word, every touch, every confession late at night,” he glared at you. “Tell me, it meant nothing. Tell me, you didn’t feel it. Tell me, you don’t still dream of me. That you don’t long for my hands on your body, for the way my lips made you scream my name.”

His face was only inches away from yours. His smell was intoxicating; you could barely concentrate. The touch of his hand burned through your clothes. Naturally, _instinctively,_ your hips rolled against his. His eyes glistened at the movement. “Look me in the eyes and tell me, it was all part of my imagination.”

You stared at him and with every passing second, you drowned in the grey of his eyes, drowned in the storm of them. “I hate you.” 

When your lips met, lightning struck.

_“What are you reading?”_

_Theo and Blaise dropped down onto the grass and startled you._

_“Potions,” you replied and Blaise raised his eyebrows at your obvious lie. You had made no attempt to hide the letter that laid on top of your potions textbook. Suddenly, you tensed up, remembering the last time when the boys came to look for you. “Is everything okay with him?”_

_“With whom?”, Blaise asked._

_“Draco, idiot.” Theo rolled his eyes. “He’s … fine,” he then said._

_“More or less,” Blaise mumbled and the two of you glared at him._

_“We came to give you this.” Theo stretched out his arm, holding a piece of paper. You took it. An unfamiliar name and address was written in Theo’s sloppy handwriting. You looked at him, visibly confused._

_“She can help you with your sister,” Theo said. You blinked._

_“The trial,” Blaise explained. “My mother knows her and she helped in quite a few Death Eater trials so far.”_

_You read the name again, wondering how you had never heard of that woman. “Death Eaters belong in Azkaban,” you finally stated. “My sister is no exception.” The words burned in your throat._

_The boys sighed. “A lifetime in Azkaban will not help her. People like your sister need a chance of rehabilitation,” Theo said._

_“Do they?”, you asked with furrowed brows._

_“After a considerable amount of time spent in Azkaban,” Blaise added. “Don’t get us wrong, she needs to be punished. Obviously. But prison alone will not help her change her world views._

_For the first time, you realized how little you knew about the two Slytherins. You had heard of Blaise’s mother, a woman who was famous for her many marriages. And you remembered the day, Theo’s father escaped Azkaban. But you knew nothing beyond that. You wondered how much pain and heartbreak these two young men carried inside their hearts._

It felt right.

 _He_ felt right. His lips against yours, his tongue in your mouth, his hands grabbing you roughly. There was nothing sweet about this kiss. Nothing loving or calm. You felt his desperation in the way his hands teared at your blouse, felt his pain when he guided you to the nearest door in the hallway.

It was an unlocked classroom and the two of you didn’t break the kiss when you stumbled inside of it. He closed the door with his foot before lifting you up on a table. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer. His lips traveled down to your neck and you threw your head back as he began to suck on the skin. A whimper escaped you when his teeth scraped against your skin.

Draco’s hands moved quickly. As if he had whispered a spell, the buttons on your blouse sprung open. You moaned softly when his hands explored your body like he’d do so for the first time. Flashbacks from your first night flooded your mind and for a moment, you were back in the hotel room. The memories mixed together with your current reality and you could no longer differentiate between the two. You whimpered at the way, Draco caressed you, pulled you into hungry kisses and when his fingers sunk inside of you, you almost screamed.

Draco knew by now which buttons to press to turn you into a whimpering, begging mess. You held on to him, your fingers clawing in his back, knowing you’d leave him with red streaks all over it. He pumped into you, while whispering in your ear. His thumb flickered over your clit and your breath grew more and more erratic.

An ache had begun to form in your stomach, growing stronger and stronger, and you begged for him not to stop. He chuckled and his hot breath against your cheek combined, made you moan his name.

“Come for me,” he growled. “Come for me, I want to hear you scream my name.”

You obeyed him.

_You watched him during Potions. He sat next to Theo and the two boys worked quietly on their assignment. Draco’s fingers moved with precision and ease, cutting the ingredients, mixing them in. From time to time, he read over the instructions, his brows furrowing slightly. He showed no sign of uncertainty and when Slughorn walked past him, the professor nodded contently._

_The scene reminded you of the beginning of this school year when you had to work together for the first time. After he rescued you from Ron’s insults. “I don’t ever need you to come to my rescue,” you had snarled at him and Draco’s response was to flirt with you during class. How confused you had been during those weeks. How utterly irritated when you had to admit to yourself that Draco Malfoy was not the one dimensional asshole you had always wanted him to be. Oh, how you wanted to go back in time to this exact moment._

_“You’re staring at him again,” Hermione said._

_Your eyes dropped down to the cauldron again as you kept stirring it. You felt the worried look of your friend but were too exhausted to say something back to her._

_A few minutes later, you looked up again. Draco had stopped working. His hands still held a knife. A root remained untouched on the table. When your eyes met, his flickered with pain. You held your breath. What would happen if you just went over to him? Then Theo touched his arm and Draco turned to him, breaking the moment._

Draco didn’t give you a chance to calm down and catch your breath. You still rode out the last waves of your orgasm when you felt him pressed against your folds, hard and dripping. He pulled you into a hard kiss and entered you in one swift movement, stretching you in an almost painful way.

 _“Fuck,”_ he groaned and you bit down his lip. You moaned when he began to move, equally rough and desperate to the way he kissed you before.

“I love you,” you heard him mumble. “I love you so fucking much, I hate you for making me feel this way.” He thrusted into you relentlessly. You arched your back and his hands gripped you so tightly, you were scared it’d leave bruises in the morning.

You mumbled something against his lips but didn’t know whether it was a curse or a confession, all you felt was the way he pounded into you. Each thrust brought you closer and closer to the edge. You felt the sensation in your stomach growing stronger and stronger. Draco grabbed you by the neck and your eyes fluttered open. When they met his, you moaned at the lust in them and they darkened. Your legs started shaking; he knew you were close.

“You want to come again?”, he groaned.

“ _Yes, please_ ,” you replied and he smirked; a smirk that sent shivers down your spine. Gods, how you had missed this expression on his face. You knew that in the years to come, you’d dream of the sight of him – like this, sweaty and wanting and desperate for your walls to clench around his cock.

“Then come for me,” he hissed. You let go and pleasure followed immediately. It washed over you and you were certain you blacked out there for a second. Your legs started shaking uncontrollably and you came with his name on your lips.

Draco followed shortly after. His hips stuttered and with a silent curse, he released himself inside of you.

***

It was quiet. Draco had his hands behind his head as you rested your head on his chest. Your cloaks protected the two of you against the coldness radiating from the stones. His eyes were open, his mind restless.

Your fingers traced over his side and he shuddered at the soft touch. “I’m sorry,” you said, disturbing the peace. “I’m sorry, I can’t give you the answers you deserve.”

Draco swallowed. A few days ago, you had shattered his heart in the blink of an eye. But now, the fleeting touch of your fingertips mended it back together. Deep down, he sensed that it was only a temporary fix however. A tiny bandage on an open wound that would never stop bleeding – but he’d bleed out willingly if it meant he could hold you in his arms a little while longer.

“I would burn down the world for you,” Draco whispered. “I would hunt down whoever hurt you, if you’d only allow me. You hold my heart in your hands.”

You raised your head. A single tear rolled down your cheek and Draco reached to wipe it away. “I love you.”

Draco let out a shuddering breath. He had imagined a thousand different scenarios in which you confessed to him. In none of them did they feel like a dagger plunged in your heart.

“What I said that night was a lie.”

“I know.” He smiled sadly. “Allow me to love you back. Please.”

“No.” You shook your head. “I can’t.”

Draco sighed in frustration and stared back at the ceiling.

“Promise me to let this go.”

He scoffed. “I can’t let go of you.”

“Yes.” You sat up next to him. “Yes, you can. You must. Promise me.”

He looked at you. Merlin, how beautiful you were.

“If you truly love me, you will promise me and you will honor your promise.”

“You’re unfair,” he said softly.

“Slytherin blood runs through me.”

Draco chuckled. You leaned down and placed a kiss on his lips. “Draco, please.”

He promised.

***

Draco stared at the ring in his hands. A golden band with an emerald, encircled by diamonds. A stunning, timeless piece that belonged to his grandmother and would look beautiful on Astoria’s petite fingers.

His eyes flickered to the nightstand. The bag of candy from the weekend in Hogsmeade was almost empty. Two pieces remained. He didn’t touch them, couldn’t bring himself to eat them. When he did, there would be nothing left of you. There would be no physical reminder that you ever shared a part of his life. No photos of the two of you together, no notes, no forgotten T-Shirt or hair pins in his dorm. You had come into and vanished from his life without a single trace.

Draco gritted his teeth when the familiar emptiness began to rise inside of him. He looked back at the ring. It’d suit you. Green was your colour, Draco was sure of it. The time you wore his scarf proved it.

“It’s not too late yet.” Theo sat on his bed, arms crossed in front of his chest as he watched his friend. “You don’t have to do this. Contrary to your belief, you do have a choice.”

Draco closed his eyes. For a split second, he saw you and him, in the manor, laughing about something his mother had said. He saw you, barely covered by satin sheets, the morning sun hitting your face. He saw vacations, candlelight dinners, celebrations, your favorite flowers on the kitchen table, a shared closet, candy from Honeydukes. He saw happiness.

Draco opened his eyes and looked at Theo. “You know where Astoria is?”


	24. Graduation

_Four weeks until graduation …_

Draco Malfoy and you were over. Whatever glimpse of happiness and fleeting bliss had been bestowed upon you – it was gone. It was gone and you were alone again. In your head, you replayed your last time together over and over and over until you felt sick to your stomach. For months did you pretend not to feel anything for him beyond friendship but damn, you loved him. You loved with him with every fiber of your body. Every thought on every day was devoted to him and him only. You looked for him in the hallways, glanced at him during class and each time your eyes met, another piece of your heart broke.

To be quite honest, you weren’t worried about yourself as much as you worried about him. You spoke to Theo from time to time, asking him about Draco. He told you exactly what you had suspected all along: his dreams had gotten worse. He skipped therapy sessions, spent his days scribbling in his black notebook instead. You knew it wasn’t fair to you but you still couldn’t help but blame yourself.

During meals, you watched him with Astoria who was glued to his side. To your surprise, she seemed happier. Even though she grew paler with each day she wore a smile on her face. An honest, happy smile. You heard her laugh and wondered if it had been this beautiful all the time. You watched her talk to Draco with a spark in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. You wanted to hate her but seeing her like this? It certainly made it harder for you to do so. Still, each time you saw them walking to class or sit outside on the grass, your stomach plummeted and on particularly bad days, tears filled your eyes.

Eventually, you grew sick of feeling this way. You had fought hard for your own happiness to return after all the shit you went through and to now have it taken away from you in an instant by _him_ felt humiliating. The whole mess started because you wanted to hurt Ron. So how did you end up hurting instead?

You tried tuning out the pain by burying yourself in work. Studying, quidditch training, stupid parties in the Gryffindor common room – you tried anything and everything to numb down the pain. It worked. For the most part. However, your thoughts always began to stray after a while. As soon as his image popped up in your mind, you pinched yourself as if you were trying to wake up from a bad dream. One time, you did it during a therapy session and Merlin, did you regret that. The lecture about self-harm that followed was definitely not worth it.

The days grew warmer. Sunlight fell through the dusty windows of the Hogwarts classrooms, the smell of flowers and freshly cut grass filled the air. Summer had begun to knock on the door. You weren’t ready to open it yet. Once summer arrived, your life would change once again.

However, before that happened you still had to get through your exams. You dreaded the thought of taking them. These past months … well, to put it gently, your focus hadn’t been on school exactly. Sure, you spent hours upon hours in the library but you weren’t sure how much of the things you read actually stuck with you.

“Ready?”, Ginny asked you the morning of your final exams.

You glanced at her and shook your head. She laughed. “Come on, it won’t be that bad. We’ve taken thousands of exams, we’ll get through it. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“Y/N doesn’t achieve the grades she needs to become an auror,” Hermione chimed in matter-of-factly. “That’s the worst that can happen.”

“Thanks, Mione,” you said dryly.

She smiled at you apologetically. “It won’t come to this, don’t worry. You got this. We all do.” She took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

***

_Two weeks until graduation …_

You sat together with Ginny and Hermione at the Black Lake, feet dangling in the water, eyes closed as you enjoyed the sunrays warming your face. Ginny kept on talking about the tryouts for the Holyhead Harpies that would take place just a few days after graduation while you and Hermione only occasionally commented. You reassured her that she would do just fine. After all, there was no doubt in your mind that Ginny Weasley would join the team and have a successful quidditch career ahead of her.

After a while, the conversation shifted. Hermione worried about the amount of reading she had to do before her internship at the Ministry of Magic started, and you snorted. “They don’t expect you to know everything about the job beforehand, y’know?”

“Well, good impressions are important,” she replied.

During the whole afternoon, the topic of your future plans didn’t come up. Your friends sensed your apprehension regarding that particular topic. After the utter debacle that was your exams, you tried to forget that you were supposed to have an idea of what to do with your life in just about two weeks. You still waited on a letter from the Ministry, waited for the news that your plan had worked out. That you could become an auror, a dream you had since you could think. Yet, you screwed up and you weren’t sure if your performance in the final exams was enough to get you a placement. Thankfully, your parents were still too wound up in the whole drama Alissa brought with her. They didn’t even ask how your exams went and you weren’t mad. The importance of exams paled in comparison to the prospect of a life sentence in Azkaban.

A bee buzzed close to your ear and you opened your eyes again.

***

_One week before graduation …_

“You look horrible, darling.”

You rolled your eyes when Theo appeared by your side. You were on your way to the Great Hall, earlier than usual in an attempt to study a few more minutes in the library before your first class. “Thank you, Theodore. Just what a woman wants to hear before breakfast.”

He snickered. “Apologies.” Then he held his hands out, motioning you to give him some of the books in your arms to help you carry them.

“Accepted,” you said and gave him the whole pile of books instead. He groaned and you chuckled at him. “How are you then?”, you asked.

“Relieved about the fact that school is almost over.” He dodged a first year student who ran past him and one books slid dangerously close to the edge of the pile. You were surprised by how many students were already awake.

“Any plans for what comes after?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Travel.”

You looked at him in surprise. “Travel?”

“Blaise and I are going to travel around Europe for a few months,” he explained. “I need to get out of the country where everyone knows me as ‘that Death Eaters kid’ and Blaise is simply loaded with money and doesn’t want to work.” The two of you laughed at the last statement. “And afterwards …” Theo shrugged. “I don’t know yet.”

“That sounds nice,” you sighed. “When will you leave?”

“After Draco’s wed-” He stopped midsentence. “Ah, shit.”

You bit your tongue. Actually bit it. “It’s official then,” you said softly. “I haven’t seen the announcement yet.”

Theo stopped. You had almost reached the Great Hall. The Slytherin looked at you with sympathy. “It’ll come out today.” He lowered his voice: “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You avoided his gaze. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Theodore stayed quiet until you resumed your walk. “For what it’s worth, he doesn’t love her,” he finally said. The statement hurt even more.

“What a fucking mess we made.”

Theo nodded. He didn’t say anything else. When you walked into the Great Hall, he handed you the books back and softly squeezed your arm before mumbling: “I’m really sorry.”

He was right – the Daily Prophet printed the announcement of the wedding on that same day. Yet, when an owl dropped the paper onto your plate, you were oddly calm. You lowered the glass of orange juice carefully and rolled up the newspaper. Their picture was on the front page.

Astoria’s beauty was unlike anything you had ever seen. She wore a simple black dress and was glowing in the picture. She smiled widely as her gaze switched between Draco and the camera. Spooky how different she looked. You wondered if they had used magic to hide the circles underneath her eyes and the sunken-in cheeks. Draco stood beside her, wearing his trademark simple, black suit. His back was straight, his eyes focused on the camera. He didn’t smile.

As if you had felt his stare, you looked up. Draco sat across the hall at the Slytherin table, Greengrass – _his fiancée_ – by his side who excitedly showed the article to Parkinson. You forced yourself to smile but it didn’t reach your eyes. He turned away. Just in time to miss the tears you had to blink away.

 _This isn’t right,_ you thought, _none of this is right._

***

_One day before graduation …_

Tears streamed down your face as another sob shook your body. You stared at the letter in your hand, reading it over and over again. At this point, you had memorized every word but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.

_Dear Ms. Y/N Y/L/N,_

When an owl brought you the letter, you didn’t open it immediately. You didn’t want to do it in front of your friends, already sensing what was written inside of it. So instead you grabbed it and went to the bleachers of the Quidditch field. High up above, where no one would interrupt you.

_We regret to inform you …_

It wasn’t entirely unsuspected but it didn’t hinder the tears from dwelling up. Before you knew it, they streamed down your face. Cold fear gripped your heart. _This is it,_ you thought, _it’s all over now._ Your entirely life you wanted to become an auror. You had no plan b, no other option, it had always been _this._ And now you failed.

“Y/N?” The voice caused you to whirl around. “What happened?” Draco. His eyes widened in shock and concern when he saw your face. With three long strides he crossed the distance between the two of you.

“Draco …”, you whimpered and then he was there, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he whispered and held you tighter. Instinctively, you relaxed against his body and let him embrace you. It felt so right. “Shh, it’s fine, it’s all going to be fine.” He repeated over and over. Sobs shook your body while your tears drenched his uniform. It felt as if hours had passed until you finally began to calm down. With each shaking breath, the scent of his cologne wrapped itself around you.

“What happened?”, Draco asked again when no more sobs escaped you and you quietly buried your face in his shoulders. Without a word, you held up the letter. A few seconds passed and Draco snorted. “Well, their loss,” he said, audibly disgusted.

You whimpered another time. “It’s all my fault. I should’ve done more, I-I …” You wiped over your eyes. “What do I do now, Draco?”

He sighed before he answered: “Anything you want. Y/N, you’re intelligent, clever, witty, beautiful – you can do anything you want.”

“Except for becoming an auror,” you scoffed.

“Maybe. So what?” He shrugged. “Fuck them. It’s their loss.”

You remained silent. Draco had his arms still wrapped around you. In this position, you almost forgot your situation. This felt so … normal. So right, so natural. As if it was meant to be. As if he was the one to hold you in this exact moment. You thought about asking why he was up here on this night but held your tongue. A part of you wanted to believe that it was because of you. Everything started up here on the bleachers, last year in September. Right here, the two of you talked for the first time in years. A conversation, you could recall to this day. Everything began here. Maybe he came back because he hoped to find you here. You wanted to believe that.

“It’s all I ever wanted to do,” you whispered after a moment. “I don’t have a plan b. I –” Another tear rolled down your cheek. He looked at you, his grey eyes full of love and adoration, and wiped it away.

“You’re hurting, I know. I’m sorry, sweetheart. It’s going to be alright though, I promise.”

You smiled sadly. “Everything goes to shit in my life, everything! The fucking war is over and yet I can’t seem to catch a fucking breath.”

“I believe, the war will stay with us for a lot longer than we thought,” Draco whispered. He didn’t let go of you as he watched the castle in the distance. The sun begun to set and drowned the Scottish landscape in its golden light. It was a marvelous sight.

Sudden music caused you to flinch. A group of seventh year students had arrived on the Quidditch field. Loud voices and laughter mixed with the rhythm of a new popular song. They weren’t from your house, you realized.

“I should leave,” Draco said. And when you recognized Astoria’s high-pitched scream as a drunken Blaise picked her up, you knew why he was here to begin with. Not for you. For them.

“Yes, right, I’m sorry.” You cleared your throat and sat up straight. Draco let go of you reluctantly before he got up. He looked at you and you wondered if he was going to say something. But even if he wanted to, he didn’t. He only nodded and then made his way towards the stairs.

“I feel as if I should congratulate you on the engagement but …”, you suddenly spoke up.

Draco stopped and glanced at you. “Don’t.”

You saw how a shadow flickered over his face. Then you remembered something else. “Wait, I have something for you.” You reached inside your back and pulled out a picture. He looked at you in surprise when he gave it to you. It was a picture of you two from the last Christmas, taken during a dinner. Draco had his arm wrapped around you and raised a glass of wine, an amused smirk on his face. You laughed in it, covering your mouth with your hand. It was the only picture of the two of you but you loved it. It showed Draco the way he truly was. The way he made you feel every time you looked at him.

“You carried it with you this whole time?”, he asked softly. He held the picture so carefully as if he was afraid to accidentally damage it.

You gave a half shrug. “Only for the last few days. I hoped to catch you alone at some point.”

“Thank you.”

“Will I see you?”

He looked up at the question.

“After graduation, I mean?”, you clarified. “Maybe send me an owl once or twice a year? I need to know you’re okay.”

“So you can rip out my heart again, little Gryffindor?”

You opened and closed your mouth at the statement. Draco chuckled. “I’ll do it. If you promise me to reply.”

“I promise.”

You didn’t know it yet but Draco would keep his promise. However, when you received his first letter, you broke yours.

***

_A few weeks after graduation …_

The last day of school came and went. Funny how you had expected it to be filled with tears and laughter when, in the end, it was just another insignificant day of the year. To be fair, some tears had been shed. Long hugs with your friends and promises to stay in touch were shared on the train station in King’s Cross before all of you parted ways.

Your parents picked you up. They looked like mere shells of themselves as they kissed you on the cheek. A lump formed in your throat when you saw their sad faces. They had aged immensely in these past few months, the stress had left deep wrinkles and tired eyes behind.

They didn’t speak much on this day. They only hugged you when you told them about the rejection from the Ministry. “I’m so sorry, darling,” your father had mumbled, “you’ll find something else, I’m sure.” A part of you was relieved they didn’t ask any further questions.

The next morning, your mother had asked you if you wanted to see Alissa. You didn’t. You couldn’t. The mere mention of her name made you grit your teeth. Alissa was the reason for all the suffering in your family’s life. For all the heartbreak and tears. All the sisterly feelings had shrunken during the past year. Now you were left with rage and hatred when you heard her name.

“Will you please come to the court hearing in two weeks then?”, your mother had asked when she noticed the expression on your face and you had agreed.

And here you were. Standing in your kitchen, a cup of freshly brewed tea in your hand while you listened to your parents screaming at each other upstairs. You had just come home from the hearing and now looked outside into the garden. The roses, once your mother’s pride and joy, were neglected, you noticed. Their heads hung, most of them dried up from the summer sun.

“Twenty-five years in Azkaban,” you mumbled to yourself. Alissa’s future. Twenty-five years locked away on an island. You had hoped the sentence would give you satisfaction. It didn’t. Instead it frightened you. Would Alissa survive this? Twenty-five years without seeing her family? Would your mother survive it? Or would she wither like the roses in her garden?

You took a sip of your tea and wondered how your life changed once again, now that the problem of Alissa was finally … resolved. It ended. The anxious waiting, the not knowing … it all ended. By now, she would have already arrived in the prison cell that would be her home for the years to come.

You hadn’t spoken to her. You had watched her in the courtroom while she didn’t look up at your family. During the whole hearing, her eyes were locked on the ground and she remained silent. It was the strangest sight – the broken-down woman in the dirty dress wasn’t your sister. The fiery spirit inside her had left a long time ago together with her beauty and wits. You stared at Alissa, desperately trying to find a glimpse of the sister you once knew and loved. You were unsuccessful. This woman was a stranger and your sister was dead. And you wanted nothing more than to simply move on.

“The nerve this family has,” your father muttered behind you. “Unbelievable.”

You sat the tea cup down on the counter and turned to him. The screaming had stopped, you realized. You had been so lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed how your father came downstairs again.

“What are you talking about?”, you asked.

Your father shook his head and handed you an envelope without another word. Your gaze fell onto the dark green emblem printed on the back and suddenly, your throat felt very, very dry. You’d recognize the sign anywhere. With shaking hands you opened the envelope and pulled out a card. 

“Can you believe it?”, your father asked. “They actually have the nerve to invite us to _his_ wedding?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! <3


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